Tribute
by blondebouncingferret
Summary: Blaine didn't think Kurt knew he existed until he was chosen for the 73rd Hunger Games. After he won, he returned home with hopes of speaking to Kurt. But when Kurt's name is chosen the following year Blaine is forced to be his mentor and keep him alive.
1. Chapter 1

_**Chapter 1**_

_The rain was hammering down hard, too hard to be natural, especially as the sky had been a clear blue not ten minutes ago. The Gamemakers knew the finale was approaching and wanted a dramatic setting for the last two tributes standing._

_The sky was overcast; much too dark for the time of day but Blaine didn't have time to think about that. There were two of them left. It was going to end soon and he knew it. Either he was about to die or he was about to kill._

_He made a mental list, trying to remember who was left. The cannon had gone off this morning marking the end of the tribute from Six, which meant that the tribute from Twelve was left. What was his name? Dave? From their training sessions he remembered a large and burly boy of around seventeen, throwing weights around like they were apples._

_Blaine laughed, wiping his soaking curls from his forehead. Yeah, he was about to die. There was no way he was going to beat Dave. He absently wiped his knife on his knee, cleaning it of the squirrel he had enjoyed for his dinner. _My last meal.

_Squinting through the bushes he thought he heard a rustling but it could have been the wind. Gripping the knife tighter, Blaine turned slowly on the spot, waiting out his fate. The Gamemakers had dragged him back to the Cornucopia for a reason but when he had arrived it was empty._

_He could feel his heart thumbing in his chest or maybe that was the thunder? A clap of thunder caused Blaine to jump and look wildly around. He could feel his face reddening, imagining his father at home rolling his eyes at his scared son. His wimpy son. It wouldn't have mattered that Blaine was one of two tributes left, no. Just the fact that he was showing fear would be enough for his father to make some snide comment. Blaine only hoped his brother Cooper was sticking up for him._

_He was sure that his last gift from a sponsor was from his older brother. It had been a pumpernickel roll with goat cheese spread. Something he and Cooper would eat on special occasions like birthdays or Reaping day._

_Watching his brother in the crowd when his name had been picked had been the hardest thing to watch. No, scratch that. Watching his father hold Cooper's arm so he couldn't go to Blaine had been hard. Not that it mattered. Cooper was over eighteen, he wasn't allowed to volunteer even if he had been given the chance. The pained look in his brother's eyes tore through Blaine's heart like a knife. The disappointed look in his father's eyes shredded what was left of it._

_Blaine lowered the knife and frowned. Surely Dave should be here by now. The rain was easing up and Blaine wasn't sure if this was a good sign or bad. It must be hard for people to watch with the weather so dark and unforgiving. What point was there watching two guys thrash it out if you couldn't even see what was happening?_

_Despite the fact that the sky was lighter, a dark shadow cast itself over Blaine. He barely had time to throw his arms up when Dave leap off the Cornucopia, his own knife in hand, lunging himself onto Blaine._

_Blaine cried out, shielding his face with his hands, praying that it was going to be quick. Dave landed on him hard, forcing them both to the ground with a thump. He expected to be pinned down, his throat slashed in one swift movement but nothing happened._

_Dave didn't move._

_Blaine whimpered underneath him, glancing up at his face, which was staring and still. Blaine considered poking him until he saw a trickle of blood leaving his mouth and that's when he realised what had happened._

_Dave had landed on his knife._

_Blaine's body froze and his insides twisted painfully, not just at his kill, but at the fact that this meant that he had _won.

_He pushed Dave off with some difficultly and stared at his lifeless body, his knife sticking out just above his ribcage. Blaine dropped to the ground, running his fingers through his hair as the world around him turned to day, the rain stopped and the sun appeared. Blaine felt a small breeze and the warmth of the sun on his face._

_He couldn't get up, not even when the announcer's voice boomed out for him to hear._

"Congratulations! Let's hear it for the victor of the Seventy-Third Hunger Games – Blaine Anderson from District Eight!"

And that's when Blaine woke up.

He could hardly believe that it was only a year ago that he had been inside that arena. He still had nightmares about it. The death of Dave Karofsky being a regular dream. He hadn't meant to kill him, it had been self defence, but he couldn't get the cold empty look Dave had in his eyes out of his head.

Blaine sat up, hugging his knees to his chest as he peered out of the window. The sun was barely up, it couldn't be more than five in the morning. Blaine rested his head against the headboard, releasing a long and tired sigh. The Reaping didn't begin until two that afternoon. Once the Reaping was over, everyone could forget about him. Forget about the boy from District Eight when there were new tributes to think about.

Blaine felt terrible looking forward to Reaping day this year. But he was also getting tired of the stares at the whispering at school and in the town. Despite winning, he had been taunted at school for the first few months by the older children. They had called him Bluke, a mixture of Blaine and Fluke. He had won by chance. By accident. Making District Eight laughable in the eyes of other Districts, especially Twelve who really could have done with a win. As the tributes thinned out, they really thought Dave was going to win. Who would have thought that someone like Blaine, a small and skinny seamstress from District Eight would beat him?

When Blaine, his father and his brother moved into their new house in the Victors Village he had been slightly happier. It meant that he didn't have to live near those who picked on him. He was able to escape. Cooper had told him to ignore them, that _he_ was proud of him, no matter what. Blaine didn't know what he would have done if Cooper hadn't been there.

There was no school today and thanks to the money he won last year, he didn't have to continue working in the factory making blazers for Dalton, the school in the Capitol. He missed working in the factory. He missed the feel of the blue blazers on his fingers; he missed hand stitching the 'D' emblem on the breast pocket. He especially missed seeing Kurt.

Kurt Hummel in his opinion was perfect. With his porcelain skin and bright blue eyes that shone like the aquamarine gemstones the dressmakers sewed onto some of the more beautiful dresses for the Capitol. Apart from Cooper, it was Kurt that dominated his thoughts everyday in the arena. Kurt who Blaine would dream of at night, welcoming him back to the District with open arms and hot and heavy kisses that sent shivers through Blaine's spine when he thought about it.

But it never happened.

It was a few days after Blaine had been back. He had seen Kurt admiring a brooch in the haberdashery. He hesitated speaking to him, unsure of what to say. The fact of the matter was that Kurt didn't even know that Blaine had existed until his name had been pulled out of the bowl. They hadn't spoken in years, since they were children really.

Kurt had looked up and flushed at the sight of him, his eyes widening. His fingers had trembled and he dropped the brooch back on the counter. They stared at each other for a moment before Kurt's brother Finn, a tall brunette who wasn't the smartest needle in the box, had ushered him away, muttering about the company he kept.

Blaine hadn't forgotten the look on Kurt's face as he glanced over his shoulder at him. Forlorn and something Blaine couldn't place. Blaine had purchased the brooch Kurt had been looking at: white coral petals centred upon a single pearl. It was beautiful but way too expensive for Kurt. Blaine kept it under his pillow with the hopes of giving it to him one day.

When Blaine had washed and dressed in a simple tunic (he would change later into his Reaping outfit), he entered the kitchen to find Cooper with his back to him.

"Morning, B," Cooper said in what he probably hoped was a cheerful tone. No one was cheerful on Reaping day, even if your name wasn't in. Blaine sat at the table as Cooper turned around, his features hard as he tried to smile at his brother. "Pumpernickel and goats cheese," he said, handing Blaine a plate.

Blaine returned the smile and took a bite of the still warm bread. "Thanks," he muttered.

"I've laid out your outfit on your bed," Cooper informed him, pouring them both a glass of water. "The cameras will be following you in town so you better look your best."

Blaine merely nodded and finished his breakfast, aware that Cooper's eyes were burning into him. "I'm fine," Blaine said, answering the unspoken question between them.

"I didn't say that you weren't," Cooper said quietly.

Blaine looked up and saw concern in Cooper's eyes. He hated seeing Cooper upset, especially if he was the cause of it. He couldn't imagine what went through his mind watching Blaine during the games last year. "My name isn't in the bowl anymore, so I have nothing to worry about," Blaine said, more to himself than Cooper.

If you asked him, this was third in Blaine's list of reasons he was happy he won, right behind _not being dead_ and _seeing my brother again_. But if you _really_ asked him it was fourth, behind _not being dead_, _seeing Kurt again_ and _seeing Cooper again_.

"I know, I just worry about you, kiddo," Cooper said. "And besides, I'm going to miss you when you're in the Capitol."

Blaine's body went ridged and suddenly he wasn't very hungry. Yes. The Capitol. Blaine had forgotten for five minutes that come two o'clock even though he wouldn't be going into the arena, he would be mentoring the boy tribute from his District. Apart from him, there were two victors living in the village with the Andersons. Will Schuester, winner of the fifty-fifth Hunger Games and Shannon Beiste, winner of the forty-eighth Hunger Games.

Will was a shell of his former self. Once a great dancer, he was now confined to a wheelchair and he barely spoke or even left his house. Twice since the Games Blaine's father had reported that Will was brought into the Healers Sanctuary after trying to take his own life.

Alexander Anderson was the Healer Leader at the Sanctuary, something Blaine was thankful for during times in the arena when he needed medical care. Blaine often complained to Cooper about their father's failings towards him, but he was entirety grateful that he knew how to care for burns, cuts and poisons.

With Will out of the picture, it meant that Blaine and Shannon were the mentors for the tributes. Blaine was dreading it. What could he honestly say to the boy tribute that he'd be helping try to stay alive? _Maybe you'll get lucky like me and everyone will die around you_. It was laughable. He'd have better luck asking Shannon to mentor both while he kept his head down in the Capital, gorging on their rich food.

That sounded like a plan. Shannon was built strong like an Ox and killed almost half the tributes during her own games. People in the District not only feared her, but they respected her. She had been Blaine's mentor during his time in the games and look how that turned out. They got on well and Blaine found out quickly that under her tough exterior was the nicest person he'd met. He was sure that she'd understand his plight and help him out. The tribute, whoever he was, would surely agree to being trained by Shannon instead of him.

It was almost one o'clock when Blaine met Cooper and their dad in the entrance to their house. Cooper had set Blaine out one of his old suits: a white long shirt with a red and blue stripped bow tie and dark cotton jacket. Blaine assumed that he'd tailored it to fit Blaine's smaller stature and while it would have been easier to wear one of his own smart clothes, Blaine appreciated the sentiment.

Cooper had been right, the cameras were almost glued to Blaine the moment he walked into the town centre. At least on a normal day he could pull his hood up and walk eyes to the ground to avoid being stared at. Today it was different; it was harder to blend in with people whispering around you and cameras following your every move.

Blaine smiled weakly and ran his hand absently over the front of his jacket, feeling a small bump under the material. He had pinned the brooch he bought for Kurt under the lapel of his jacket to sooth his anxiety. He wouldn't be able to see Kurt for a month or so and he wanted something close by to remember him.

Two Peacekeepers were walking towards him and Blaine felt his breath hitch at the memory of last year, of being physically pushed onto the stage when his legs refused to work. He didn't recognise either man, they weren't the usual Peacekeepers who walked the streets here. They guided him towards the stage where there were four seats lined up.

Three of those seats were already occupied: Major Figgins, whose usual smiling face was drawn closed, his lips in a tight line as he watched Blaine approach the stage. Next to him was Sue Sylvester, the escort for the tributes. She was a tall woman, who wore a silk aqua tunic over a pair of orange sink trousers. She had aqua highlights streaked through her short blonde hair and her skin was faintly tinted powder blue. She saluted him as he passed her.

And then finally sat Shannon Beiste. She too was in her best clothes, a simple crimson red dress that fell below her knees. She offered him a smile and patted the seat next to her.

The Reaping began with Major Figgins reading the story of Panem, the uprising and the pain that followed. He then read out a list of the victors from the District. Out of the seven, only three were still alive. Blaine tried to rearrange his face to something neutral when his name was read, staring ahead past the cameras. When the Capitol video started to play he didn't need to watch; it was burnt into his brain.

"… _and that is why we have the Hunger Games!_" the voice in the video concluded.

Sue Sylvester stood up and approached the two large bowls positioned at the front of the stage. She smiled eagerly at the crowd, in what she imagined must be a thrilled expression that just came off as patronising. As she spoke about what a _privilege_ it was to be here and how excited she was to choose this year's tributes, Blaine stopped listening and allowed himself to look the crowd. Some children were silently crying, others white faced with their lips pursed and their bodies stiff. He caught sight of Cooper who gave him an encouraging smile, and next to him their father, who looked sullen and who broke their eye contact almost immediately after Blaine gained it. For whatever reason, he couldn't look at his son.

He caught Kurt's eye in the crowd with the other seventeen years olds and was surprised to find him looking directly at him. His face was paler than usual, with a faint tinge of green in his cheeks. He stared unblinkingly at Blaine for a moment before his eyes fell to the ground. A small jolt to his stomach snapped Blaine's thoughts back as Sue Sylvester approached the female bowl.

"Ladies first," she quipped, placing one of her blue stained hands into the bowl before pulling out a piece of paper. She opened it, read the name and then spoke it clearly into the microphone for everyone to hear.

"Tina Cohen-Chang!"

A knot tied itself in Blaine's stomach. He knew Tina, she was nice. She would often help him with the fancier stitching at the factory as her fingers were more nimble and she always finished her work first.

Tina took a deep breath, wiping away a few stray tears as she walked to the stage, head held up high. A small Asian girl had started to sob in the families section. She couldn't have been more than four or five years old and Blaine guessed that she was Tina's little sister. She was being held by a short woman who had to be their mother while their father placed a caring arm around the both of them.

Sue Sylvester was saying something to Tina that Blaine didn't catch. Whatever it was, Tina simply nodded and stood over by the female bowl and waited for her rival.

"At least she isn't twelve or thirteen, I don't think I'd be able to handle training them," Shannon whispered to Blaine, her eyes not leaving Tina. Blaine nodded and prayed for the same.

"And now for the boys," Sue Sylvester said, hand digging through the pieces of paper before pulling out one and opening it in front of the microphone. She smiled at the crowd and read out, "Kurt Hummel."


	2. Chapter 2

It felt like time had physically stopped.

Blaine had been so wrapped up in his own feelings that he failed to remember that Kurt's name was in that bowl even if his wasn't. He blinked repeatedly, trying to refocus on what was happening. He was vaguely aware that his mouth was open and his eyes stung. He squeezed them shut and upon opening them a few stray tears fell. He quickly wiped his eyes and glanced around to see if anyone had noticed.

All eyes and cameras were on Kurt as he made his way slowly to the stage. His brother Finn was standing with their dad in the families section. Finn was nineteen and no longer eligible to take part in the Games and Blaine knew that he would have volunteered in Kurt's place if he could.

Finn had a strained look on his face that equally matched Kurt's dad. Kurt had lost his mother the same time Blaine lost his and he didn't think Kurt's dad could handle another loss. He knew that Mr Hummel had a bad heart and this wasn't going to help.

Blaine swallowed hard when he remembered that Kurt's life now rested in his hands. Their eyes met as Kurt approached the stage and Kurt looked how he felt. The longer Blaine looked at him, the stronger the burning heat inside of him grew until it was too much and he had to turn away.

"Wonderful!" Sue Sylvester announced to the silent crowd. "This year's tributes – Tina Cohen-Chang and Kurt Hummel!"

As the theme music played out someone behind the camera yelled "cut!" and the crowd slowly started to disperse. Tina and Kurt were ushered inside the Justice Building by a couple of Peacekeepers with Blaine, Shannon, Sue Sylvester and Major Figgins behind.

Blaine caught Kurt being shut in one of the rooms where he would be able to have a few minutes to say goodbye to his family and friends. It was the same room Blaine was taken to when he had to say goodbye to his dad and Cooper.

_Blaine sat in one of the plush chairs, his right leg shaking hard as he rubbed his hands together. He was alone; there were no cameras in here. He let out a loud sob, his hands covering his face as he openly wept. He would need to pull himself together before he got on the train otherwise he would appear weak to his fellow tributes and sponsors._

_But who was he kidding? He was hardly built for fighting. He was the shortest boy in his year, with a mop of curls that screamed innocent. Maybe he could shave his head to appear tougher? No, he'd look ridiculous._

_The door to the room opened and Blaine glanced up, eyes stinging and red with his cheeks pink and tear stained. Cooper and his dad walked in, closing the door behind them. Cooper's eyes were pink and his expression stony, almost unreadable. Had he been crying? Mr Anderson stood by the door, his arms crossed against his chest watching Blaine carefully._

"_Coop," Blaine said in a quiet whisper._

_Cooper took two strides over to his brother, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him close to his chest. "I know, B, I know," he whispered back. "It's going to be okay… it's going to be-"_

"_- but it's not. I can't… I can't do this," Blaine interrupted, another sob shuddering through his body, causing Cooper to hold on tighter._

_Cooper pulled back, taking hold of Blaine by each shoulder so he could bend down to meet Blaine at eye-level. "Hey, look at me." Blaine looked up and blinked. "I believe in you, you're smarter than you give credit for."_

_Blaine scoffed at this. "What can I do?"_

_Cooper smiled. "Lots of things. You work in the factory, you know how to sew. You can make snares, shelter, warm clothing to keep your body temperature up during the cold nights."_

_Blaine shrugged. "Yeah, I guess."_

"_And you know about medicine from our Sunday lessons with dad," Cooper continued encouragingly. He looked over to his shoulder and raised his eyebrows at their father. "Right, Dad?"_

_Mr Anderson nodded. "You always did very well in plant identification and medical supplies," he said. It sounded like a compliment but Blaine was just too tired from the day's events to analyse it._

"_Exactly," Cooper said enthusiastically. "And what about your fencing lessons? Surely they will come in handy."_

"_Fencing with a mask and protective suit on is hardly the same as attacking someone with a knife or sword," Blaine said, frowning deeply. He was very good at fencing, but that was only because his father had enough money to pay for extra lessons while some of his opponents could only afford to go once a fortnight. They weren't a poor District like Twelve, but they were no where as rich as One or Two._

"_Time's up!" called someone outside the door._

_Blaine looked back at his brother in panic, throwing his arms around him tightly. "I love you, please don't forget me."_

"_Hey, hey, hey, I'm not going to forget you because I'll be seeing you real soon, okay?" Cooper soothed back, rubbing circles on Blaine's back._

_When they parted Blaine walked over to his dad who held out his hand. Blaine blinked at it and then sighed; giving his father the firmest handshake he could muster._

"_Good luck, Blaine," Mr Anderson said, forehead crinkling as he watched his youngest son nod in reply._

"_Thank you," Blaine merely said._

_As they were led out of the room, Cooper called back, "I love you, Blaine!" and then Blaine was alone once more._

Blaine excused himself to the restroom where he promptly threw up in the first toilet. He flushed and shakily walked over to the sinks, placing both hands on the cool porcelain as he stared at his reflection. He looked wrecked; his face was pale and his eyes dark. He let out a choked breath and turned on the cold tap, throwing a hand full of water over his face to calm himself.

The door to the restroom opened and Blaine looked up at the mirror and saw Cooper in the reflection.

"Hey," Cooper said softly, frowning at Blaine as the younger Anderson began to quietly cry, his bottom lip jutting out. Blaine grabbed a hand full of paper towels, wiping his face and eyes dry. As he paced up and down the sink area, he rested his arms on top of his head, trying to hold back the flood he knew was stored up inside of him.

_Wait until you're in your room on the train. Don't let anyone see you cry._ He told himself.

"Blaine, you're scaring me, what's wrong?" Cooper looked alarmed and held out a hand to stop Blaine moving.

"Kurt," Blaine whispered, barely audible. He stopped pacing and wrapped his arms around himself, sniffing back a sob as he glanced at his brother nervously.

Cooper pursed his lips, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "The tribute? What about him?"

Blaine trembled under Cooper's gaze. "I'm in love… with him."

Whatever Cooper was expecting Blaine to say, this was not it. Cooper's eyes widened and he rubbed his jaw as he inhaled a deep breath. "Oh." He paused and then said, "When you came out to me at thirteen you were interested in the blacksmith's son."

Blaine's cheeks turned pink. "Kurt is the blacksmith's son," he said in a small voice.

Cooper ran his fingers through his hair. "Well, that's… this is difficult." Cooper leant against the nearest sink. "I'm sorry this has happened to you. I can't imagine what you're going through right now."

Blaine joined him, leaning against the adjacent sink. "I thought last year was going to be the worse of it. Thinking I was going to die before I even got the chance to say one word to him, let alone tell him how I felt but this… I have to _mentor_ him, Coop. I'm going to be all he has until he enters that arena and then I have to watch him…" Blaine didn't finish his thought. He couldn't.

Cooper clapped a hand to his shoulder. "Hey. Do you remember what I said to you last year in this building? _I believe in you_. I did then and I do now. It's going to be okay."

Blaine nodded and stood up. "I better get on the train, they'll be wondering where I am."

"Hey, come here," Cooper said, pulling Blaine into a hug. When they parted Blaine gave him an appreciative smile and left the restroom.

When Blaine got on the train he debated going straight to his quarters and sleeping the entire journey, but then he remembered that Kurt was sitting somewhere scared and feeling alone. He would be sitting with Tina but Blaine knew from his own experience that Shannon would have gone straight to speak to her somewhere private.

Checking his reflection in one of the windows, he made sure his face didn't give away the fact that he had been crying. The last thing he needed was for Kurt to see him looking weak when he was the one who had to advise him how to stay alive.

Blaine went to the dining cart first, where there were a number of plush chairs and a large mahogany table they would have tonight's meal around. Kurt was sitting in one of the chairs by the window, chewing absently on a pinkish fruit. When Blaine closed the door behind him, Kurt glanced up looking almost startled to see him.

_Oh great. I scare him._

"Hi," Blaine said quietly.

Kurt swallowed the piece of fruit he had been chewing. "Hi," he replied in almost an identical voice.

Blaine licked his lips, unsure what to say next. He instead took a seat next to Kurt and motioned the fruit in his hand. "What are you eating?"

"It's a peach," he said in almost a dreamy tone. "They only grow in District Eleven; I've never had one and thought why not?"

Blaine grinned at him when Kurt's cheeks tinged pink and he dipped his head, smiling shyly under his eyelashes. _How could anyone be that beautiful?_ "And how is it?" Blaine asked, biting down on his bottom lip.

"Heavenly," Kurt answered honestly after a beat. "You should really try one."

"I will," Blaine promised. He rubbed the back of his neck gingerly as the silence set in. Kurt continued to eat and Blaine couldn't help but watch his red lips mould around the flesh of the peach, moistening them as the juices escaped with every bite.

Kurt glanced over at Blaine who quickly looked out of the nearest window, hoping Kurt didn't see him staring at him. Kurt licked his fingers and wiped his mouth with a handkerchief from his pocket. It was beautiful: cotton white with sky blue embroidered letters in the corner. _EH_.

"It was my mother's," Kurt said when he noticed Blaine admiring it. "It's the only thing I have left of her." He rubbed his thumb over the initials and smiled fondly at it before putting it back into his pocket.

"I have a piano," Blaine said suddenly. Kurt looked up at him curiously, knitting his eyebrows together as he tilted his head slightly. Blaine smiled fondly and continued. "My mom was a pianist, she taught me how to play and every time I sit at our piano and play I think about her."

Now it was Kurt's turn for his smile to soften as he remembered. "My mom and I would sing together. We couldn't afford – we didn't have any instruments at home but that never stopped her. She would teach me songs and we'd sing as we sewed or made dinner." Kurt sighed, his eyes falling to his lap where his hands were clasped.

"You sang at the Harvest Festival four years ago," Blaine said, his voice a little broken as Kurt looked up, his expression a mixture of surprise and bashfulness. Blaine locked eyes with him, feeling a little more confident. "You sang that old song…" Blaine racked his brains as Kurt looked on expectantly, his eyes wide and his lips parted. "Blackbird."

Kurt sucked in a breath as Blaine nodded to himself, pleased. "Yes, Blackbird. It was breathtaking, Kurt. Truly beautiful." Kurt's cheeks had turned pink and he was biting on his bottom lip, his eyes firmly on Blaine, really _looking_ at him, who in turn was just as flustered at what he had admitted.

While District Eight's industry was textiles, they still held a Harvest Festival every September. The tesserae grain and oil was distributed every October so the people of District Eight used the last of the grain along with the last of their food stock before the new tesserae for the year was delivered.

You wouldn't call it a feast, but there was enough that you left with full stomachs and dizzy heads from the wine. Everyone came together to bring what they could and there was dancing, singing, prayers, thanks and celebration as a community before the next Hunger Games began.

It was at the Harvest Festival four years ago Blaine had realised that he was gay. It was years before that when Cooper was telling him about his first girlfriend and Blaine decided that he wouldn't ever have a girlfriend. When he told Cooper as much Cooper had merely laughed and said, "When you get older, you'll change your mind." Only, Blaine didn't change his mind.

He had been sitting with Cooper enjoying their dinner of roast pheasant with spiced apples and mulled wine, clapping along to the barn dancers when Major Figgins introduced thirteen year old Kurt Hummel as the next performer.

To say Blaine was smitten was an understatement. As Kurt sang, Blaine found himself staring at this beautiful boy with a voice like an angel. He was a little nervous at first but as he started the second verse his voice became stronger, more sure and he gave it his all. Blaine felt something tighten in his chest, something he couldn't make sense of.

Cooper was very understanding when he told him. Well, he _had _to tell him. He had been talking to Blaine for three minutes before he had realised that Blaine wasn't listening. He told Blaine later that he looked like he was staring into the sun, his eyes bright and gleaming, blinking rapidly but unable to turn away. He had seen Kurt around school of course; they were in the same year, but he hadn't really _seen_ Kurt. They had spoken when both of their mother's had died during the same accident when they were seven, but Blaine didn't like to dwell on that.

Blaine tended to keep to himself; with only one or two people he called friends. Of course, when he won the Hunger Games the year before, he withdrew himself from everyone other than Cooper and that seemed to suit his friends fine.

"How did you remember that?" Kurt asked him suddenly, his voice full of awe.

Blaine opened his mouth and then closed it again before answering. "It's not something I could forget in a hurry."

The two boys continued to watch each other, the only sounds coming from the train as it sped along the countryside towards the Capitol. They would be arriving there late this evening and then tomorrow the training would begin for Kurt and Tina and Blaine would be given his schedule of sponsor meetings; dinners and gatherings he would be expected to attend to in case Kurt needed anything. And whether or not Kurt needed anything specific, Blaine was damn sure going to try his best to get him anything and everything the sponsors were willing to offer.

Because if Kurt was going to die soon, Blaine wanted him to at least know that someone was thinking of him, that someone loved him.

It looked like Kurt was about to say something, but what that something was Blaine never found out because Shannon, Tina and sure enough Sue Sylvester all came into the cart and made their way towards the table.

"Evening Blaine, Kurt," Sue Sylvester said, nodding at each boy. "It's time for dinner and boy, are you guys in for a treat!" As they both took seats at the table opposite each other, they glanced around at the empty containers and glasses. Blaine wondering what the Capitol had prepared for the first night and Kurt praying he could keep it down.

"Treat?" Tina asked, perking up. Blaine hadn't seen her smile today so watching her hopeful face light up at the sound of something good happening today was refreshing and eased his heart a little.

"Of course!" Sue Sylvester beamed. "Just look around you! You're going to be eating from _plates_ and using _knives and forks_!" She opened her mouth in a large grin, pausing for effect. Except when she looked round, instead of seeing mesmerised faces, she was met with mild hostility and disgusted expressions. Blaine resisted the urge to throw his knife into her open mouth.

"Excuse me?" Tina asked, lip curling as she glared at the blue stained woman.

Sue Sylvester nodded several times. "I know! I bet you can't believe your lucky stars! Now, if you need any help with how to use them, be sure to just ask, okay?"

Tina exchanged a look with Kurt, who looked just as appalled. "We use plates and cutlery at home," Kurt pointed out, grinding his teeth, one of his hands resting on the table in a fist.

Sue Sylvester waved her hand at him. "Oh of course you do, but these are made from metal and crockery. I don't suppose you have metal in District Eight. I imagine you make knives and forks with something in that little factory of yours!" She giggled and waved over a few tight lipped servers carrying trays.

"_Yes_," Kurt said in a strained voice. "Out of _metal_."

But it didn't matter because Sue Sylvester was no longer listening. The servers, _Avoxes_, Blaine remembered from the previous year, were setting down various dishes that made Blaine's mouth water from sight. Once everything was set out, they bowed deeply and left the cart.

Everything was labelled thankfully and from his experience last year, Blaine knew which foods agreed with him and which didn't. He started helping himself to the sea bass with rosemary and lemon, remembering the garlic sauce he tried with it last year. As he was about to dig in, he noticed Kurt out of the corner of his eye, his hand hovering over various plates, his expression unsure and hesitate.

"Hey," Blaine said softly, gaining Kurt's attention. "Try that, I think you'll like it." He pointed at a cast iron pot that contained a strong smelling pastry dish. Kurt's eyes flickered between the pot and Blaine and he licked his lips as he read the label. _Venison pie with red onion marmalade_. Intrigued, he spooned a helping onto his plate, poking his fork into the meat. He held the fork near his mouth, watching Blaine as though for permission.

Blaine nodded encouragingly. "Trust me," he said simply.

Kurt hummed in agreement, slowly filling his mouth with the dark meat and pastry. His eyes widened as his chewing went from slow and careful to frantic. He began eating quickly, pausing only to wipe his mouth when the marmalade dribbled down his chin.

Blaine almost forgot to eat his own dinner, he was so invested in watching Kurt eat. Kurt grinned at him and poured them both a glass of orange juice.

"Thanks, Kurt," Blaine said, feeling his skin blush and praying no one, especially not Kurt, could see it.

The rest of the meal was uneventful. With Shannon telling the story of her own time in the arena (Tina wasn't born then and she wanted an idea of what she could be up against and what skills Shannon had that she could teach her) and Sue Sylvester tutting at various parts of the story. ("Really, Shannon. I doubt the Gamemakers made that tree almost crush you on purpose.")

Blaine and Kurt stole glances throughout the meal, each of them making agreeable noises when they tried a different dish on the table. After Kurt had devoured his venison, he started taking random bites of the different dishes on offer. Some of them he stuck his tongue out at and others he went back for second helpings.

Blaine knew he should be talking to Kurt about the Games and what to expect but this was the happiest he had seen him and he wanted to make that last until at least the end of the train journey. There was time for serious talks tomorrow.

It was nearing eight o'clock when the world outside went dark and Kurt and Tina looked around in confusion, hurrying to the windows to peer out. When the train emerged out of the end of the tunnel and onto the train platform, both tributes jumped back, gasping. The platform was full of Capitol residents. And if they thought Sue Sylvester's getup was weird, it was nothing compared to some of the clothes worn by the people there to welcome them. Kurt wrinkled his nose and Tina giggled.

"It would really help if you two could look gracious towards the crowd. The more the crowd loves you, the better your chances are at sponsors," Shannon explained.

Kurt and Tina exchanged thoughtful looks. Kurt turned back to the window and forced a smile, waving at the crowd. Some people shrieked, others whooped and cheered. The louder the crowd, the easier Kurt found it to smile at them. Tina joined in, blowing a kiss or two as the train came to a complete stop.

"This is so weird," Kurt muttered as Tina nodded in agreement.

Blaine placed his hand over his mouth and jaw, resting his elbow on the table as he watched them both sadly. "This is just the beginning," he said.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author Note**: Warning for character deaths (implied, not shown).

* * *

><p>Being from District Eight meant that they had the eighth floor to themselves. It was beautiful; a theme of purple and green with plush chairs and a long and fluffy green rug that stretched from the elevator right into the dining room.<p>

Blaine wrinkled his nose, remembering the last time he had been in this room. Of course last year the room had been decorated in orange and red, so it seemed they changed the décor every year. _I wonder what it will look like next year?_ Blaine wondered to himself, before feeling his stomach twist uncomfortably at the thought that he'll be here next year… and the year after that… and the year after _that_.

Kurt was mesmerised by the room and for good reason. It was at least twice as big as the standard size houses back home. Tina was equally amazed, stroking one of the walls that were covered in long purple carpet.

It was late and they had already eaten on the train so everyone wished their good nights and made their way to the bedrooms. Blaine managed to get three hours of sleep before he found himself shifting under the blankets restlessly, his eyes showing so signs of closing. He turned onto his stomach, his face flat against the pillow as he groaned, before pushing himself up and climbing out of bed.

He decided to get a drink and then to try to sleep again. On the dining table was a control panel beside an empty raised base where he could order food and drink any time of the day or night and it would just appear.

He was about to key in for what the Captiol called 'hot chocolate' when he noticed a figure move out of the corner of his eye. Turning towards the shadow, his heart thumped in his chest at the sight of Kurt sitting beside the crackling fire, obviously deep in thought. Blaine keyed into the control panel for two hot chocolates and when they appeared on the base, he carefully carried them over to where Kurt was sitting.

Kurt was wearing silk pyjamas without a robe. He shivered slightly, despite sitting cross legged next to the fire. He looked up at Blaine when he came closer, only this time he smiled immediately. Blaine returned the smile, handing him one of the steaming mugs.

"Thank you," Kurt said, sniffing the contents. "Cocoa brew?"

"They call it hot chocolate here," Blaine said, blowing on the rim of the mug and taking a sip.

Kurt followed suit, raising his eyebrows as he went in for a second longer helping. "Oh. It's much sweeter than I've had before. I wonder what they put it in to make it taste that way." He licked his lips and practically drained the mug before placing it on the carpet, humming happily.

"You've had hot chocolate before?" Blaine asked, surprised. Hot chocolate, or 'cocoa brew' as it was known in District Eight, was a luxury that was only found in Districts One to Three. Blaine had only drunk it once before he came to the Capitol and the realisation hit him that it would have been at the same time that Kurt would have tried it too.

"It came in the Condolence Package my dad and I got after my mom died," Kurt said, his voice suddenly small. He spoke to the mug, running his finger around the rim a few times.

Blaine had learnt in school that when a person died in the Capitol, they left behind a document called as a Will, which listed all of their worldly possessions and who they wanted them to go to. There wasn't much cause for a Will in District Eight, so the residents were given Condolence Packages from the Capitol instead.

Each package contained various items; cocoa brew, grain and rice, packets of luxury meat (such as lamb or beef), material (Blaine guessed this differed between Districts), cheeses, pot of jam or marmalade, fresh bread and a bottle of apple and pear juice. Usually, the family would make use of the goods the evening after the person was buried in the District's Remembrance Field.

It didn't occur to Blaine that Kurt's family would have received a package too. After all, both of their mothers had died in the same incident so they would have been sent the same Condolence letter and package from the Capitol.

* * *

><p><em>Blaine gripped his mom's hand, skipping along as he smiled at passers by. They were on their way to Blaine's favourite store in town, a place that sold and leant out books. Blaine loved to read and he and his mom would visit the store every Saturday morning so Blaine could choose a book to borrow.<em>

_Every two months, Mrs Anderson would pull together her spare change and allow Blaine to purchase one of the books and today was that day. He had been telling his mom about his decision to buy _Alice in Wonderland _over _The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, _and how he'd just buy the latter the following book buying day if he hadn't found a better one in between._

_When they reached the shop, a quaint little place with shelves upon shelves of volumes from every genre you could imagine, Blaine beamed up at his mom eagerly, a bright smile flashing across his face._

"_Go pick out your book while I talk to Elizabeth about the new music sheets she just got in," Mrs Anderson said, bending down to place a tender kiss to Blaine's cheek, running her fingers through his long curls before he nodded happily and ran off in the direction of _Fiction_._

_Blaine scanned the shelves, running his finger along the wood as he read through the titles until he reached 'C'. He blinked up at else had taken it?_

"_Hello," said a small voice behind him._

_Blaine rounded and saw a little boy, around his age, sitting on a wooden stool, his nose buried in a large book so only his eyes and chestnut hair were visible. He didn't know what it was, but there was something almost comforting about his eyes, piercing blue, large and wondrous._

_Blaine was about to say hello back when he noticed the title of the book the other boy was reading. "Hey! I was going to buy that one!" He stepped closer, the other boy's eyes widening as he pulled the book up to cover his entire face. Blaine, whose hand was outstretched to grab the book, let his arm fall against his side. "Oh no, I didn't mean to- I'm sorry. It's just that I really wanted to buy that one. My mom has been saving up for me to get it."_

_The other boy peered over the top of the book again, only this time he closed it and rested it on his lap. He smiled, which made Blaine smile automatically._

"_It's my favourite," the boy said proudly, his thumb rubbing along the book's spine absently._

"_Mine too!" Blaine said excitedly. This confession caused the other boy to stand up and hold out his hand, which Blaine shook enthusiastically._

"_I'm Kurt."_

"_Blaine."_

"_I'd be happy to let you buy the book once I've finished reading it,," Kurt said, putting it down on the stool behind him._

"_Oh, but then you wouldn't be able to read it!" Blaine said, his face falling._

_Kurt chuckled. "It's okay. My mom owns this store, I'm sure she wouldn't mind ordering another copy for me. It's my birthday soon anyway," he said._

_Blaine's brows shot up, his mouth falling open as he spoke quickly and breathlessly. "Your mom_ owns_ this place? It's my favourite place in the District!"_

"_Oh, mine too!" Kurt agreed, glancing fondly around at the books. He was silent for a moment before he raised a pointed finger, his mouth making an 'O' shape. Kurt quickly scanned the shelf of books by 'B' authors, pulling out a small green book and handing it to Blaine expectedly._

"Peter Pan,_" Blaine read, looking up at Kurt imploringly._

"_For you to read until I've finished _Alice in Wonderland_, if that's okay?" Kurt asked._

"_What's it about?" Blaine asked, running his fingers over the silhouette of a boy on the cover._

"_A boy who never grows up," Kurt said simply, as though no other details were needed._

_Blaine smiled almost sadly. "That sounds nice," he whispered. He looked over at Kurt who looked just as sombre and he knew he was thinking the same thing. Not growing up meant that neither of their names could be chosen for the Hunger Games._

"_Did you see –?"_

"_- Yes."_

_Blaine picked at the hem of his shirt for something to do. Of course he'd seen it. The tribute from their district killing the poor deaf girl from District Six. She had only been thirteen years old. Even though that was the point of the games, the death of the girl had been the talk of the town. How the boy from their district had killed her in cold blood, sneaking up behind her like a coward and slitting her throat. Blaine shuddered. He was seven years old, why was he forced to watch such graphic, horrible, unspeakable things?_

_There was a large bang outside that knocked the wind out of Blaine, causing him to fall to the ground. Kurt grabbed his hands, pulling him up. Both of their expressions were panicked, and they looked around for the cause of the noise. Several more explosions vibrated the ground beneath them as Kurt clung onto Blaine, his face paling._

_There was the sound of glass breaking and suddenly everything felt too bright and too hot. There was laughing outside mixed with screams that filled the air as thick as the smoke that was rapidly growing. Blaine looked wildly around as he saw flames devouring the books he loved so dearly, the crackling sending shivers down his spine despite the rising heat. There was another large explosion, this time from inside the shop. Kurt held onto Blaine tightly, tears streaming down his face._

"_BLAINE!"_

_Mrs Anderson ran over to the boys, her hair had fallen out of the bun she usually wore it in and there was a cut across her cheek. She grabbed hold of both boys, sheltering them from the heat and falling debris as one of the bookcases nearby fell forwards, igniting the one it fell on._

"_We need to get out of here," she said hurriedly, taking hold of Kurt and Blaine's hands. The way she had come was now blocked by the fallen bookcase and the fire was getting closer. She jogged along, pulling them as quickly as possible to the other end of the store and through a section of the shop that the fire hadn't reached yet._

"_What's going on?" Blaine whimpered, his eyes glossing over at the sight of fire that was devouring everything in sight. He started to cough, blinking back tears as the smoke wafted towards them._

_Mrs Anderson swallowed thickly, pushing Blaine and Kurt to stand behind her while she looked for a way out. "District Six… they're not happy… riot," she said, her brain unable to formulate proper sentences. Blaine, despite his age, understood._

"_Where's my mom?" Kurt asked, sniffing loudly, his eyes pooling with fresh tears as he looked around. He was fisting Mrs Anderson's skirt so tightly that she had to pull his hand free so she could turn to speak to him._

"_I – I don't know, she went out the back to get me some sheet music and that's when the first explosion hit," she said, her voice sounding hoarse from the smoke and partly from guilt. "We need to get out of here. Stay low to the ground."_

_Mrs Anderson dropped onto all fours and began to crawl. Both Kurt and Blaine followed suit, keeping close to Mrs Anderson as they made it over to a section of the shop that was untouched by the destruction. When another bookcase fell over behind them, the wood cracking and the fire roaring, Mrs Anderson didn't dare look back._

_When they reached the front of the shop, they found the door blocked with a ceiling beam. The only way out was through the smashed window. Mrs Anderson was about to help Blaine out when they all heard it._

"…_help, someone."_

"_Mommy?" Kurt asked, sounding frightened, his eyes flying open as he automatically made a move to go to her._

_Mrs Anderson grabbed him around the middle before he had a chance, bending down and holding him by his shoulders. She said in a strong and forceful voice, "Kurt, go outside with Blaine. Wait there, I'll get your mom." When Kurt shook his head, his bottom lip jutting out helplessly she added, "It's too dangerous. Please, Kurt, go."_

_Kurt wiped his eyes, giving her a brief hug before taking Blaine's hand and helping him out of the window. A couple of Peacekeepers pulled them to safety, only to jump out of the way as the fire spread to part of the shop Blaine would later find out was where the electrics were connected, causing a blast that brought down most of the shop's ceiling on itself, trapping anyone who was left inside._

* * *

><p>"Do you ever think about that day?" Kurt asked quietly. This time he looked up at Blaine, his eyes unnaturally bright in the darkened room.<p>

"All the time," Blaine admitted, absently licking his dry lips.

"Your mom…" Kurt paused, taking a deep breath. He looked like whatever he was going to say was causing him some pain. "I saw you in the Remembrance Field and I was going to say something… your mom went back to try and save mine and…" he trailed off, unsure of really what to say. There was nothing to say. It was ten years ago but the memory still burned Blaine, burned like the book shop that never reopened. Blaine had packed away his books after that, leaving them to gather dust under his bed. He couldn't read, not without his mom there to listen.

"Yeah," Blaine said lamely, fiddling with the hem of his top. There wasn't anything either of them could say. "I heard your dad remarried," he said, changing the subject.

Kurt nodded. "Yes. Carole is lovely; she works at The Sanctuary with your dad. She says he's… nice." Kurt wrinkled his nose as he smiled, the sentiment not quite reaching his eyes.

Blaine chuckled softly. "You don't have to tell me what a cold man my father is," he said almost bitterly. When he saw Kurt bite down on his bottom lip worryingly he added, "He wasn't the most hands-on father when mom was alive and after she… he's a very independent man. My brother basically raised me."

Kurt nodded thoughtfully. "Your brother is much older than you." It wasn't a question, at least not one Kurt asked out loud. Blaine knew what Kurt was really trying to ask.

"He was twenty-six when my name was chosen so he couldn't volunteer," Blaine said matter-of-factly. Not that it mattered. He knew that if Cooper had been old enough to volunteer their dad would have held him back to keep him from doing so.

"I was routing for you to win," Kurt said suddenly, making Blaine laugh again.

"I should hope so," Blaine said, pulling an amused face.

Kurt's cheeks turned pink. "Oh! No, well _of course_, but I mean even if I wasn't from the same district as you, I would have still routed for you." Kurt's cheeks grew darker, causing Blaine's lips to part as he stared at Kurt unblinkingly.

"Thank you," Blaine said earnestly. "You're probably the only one who did. Apart from Cooper." At Kurt's confused expression he clarified, "My brother."

"What about your friends?" Kurt asked.

"I don't know if you had noticed but I don't really have any friends back home," Blaine said sadly. It had bothered him last year, having no one, but he was used to it now. He was better off alone, who would want to be friends with him anyway?

"I noticed," Kurt said barely audible, as though he didn't want Blaine to hear it. Blaine opened his mouth to say something but Kurt cut in. "I'm nervous about tomorrow."

Blaine smiled reassuringly. "You're going to be brilliant, you don't need to worry," he said sincerely.

"But how do you know?" Kurt asked, his voice straining slightly. It was really late now and Blaine could sense that the events of the day were getting to him. Kurt's eyes were blood shot from lack of sleep and he was breathing in short spurts. His fingers were rapidly drumming on his knee.

Blaine covered his hand over Kurt's, making Kurt suck in a breath at the motion, his fingers stopping immediately. He then said in his calmest and most sure voice, "Because you're Kurt Hummel and I believe in you."

They stayed like this for a few minutes. Kurt turned his hand over in Blaine's so Blaine began rubbing his thumb over his pulse point soothingly. It seemed to calm Kurt down but caused Blaine's heart to throb against his chest dully.

"I should get to bed," Kurt said. He made a motion to stand up and Blaine followed suit.

"I'll walk you back to your room," Blaine said without thinking.

Kurt smirked. "It's down the hall," he said.

Blaine could feel heat creeping up his neck as he said in what he hoped was a playful tone, "I'm your mentor. I've got to start somewhere."

* * *

><p>After a breakfast of kippers, toast and marmalade, Kurt and Tina bid Blaine and Shannon their goodbyes, setting off to meet their stylists and prepare for the opening ceremony.<p>

Blaine knew that Kurt was still feeling nervous about today so he gave his hand a quick squeeze under the table, feeling Kurt squeeze back firmer, his eyes briefly locking with Blaine's.

Excusing himself to his quarters, Blaine took a long shower, making use of his time in the Capitol by trying out some of the buttons. One button released foam rather than water, another produced hail stone sized beads of water and the third released steam. He only got out when his fingers started to prune. He would be meeting some of the sponsors ahead of the opening ceremony while Kurt was made 'beautiful' (or _more_ beautiful in Blaine's opinion) by his stylist.

Blaine dressed in a simple cream button up with dark pants and a matching jacket. He noticed there was a pot of hair gel on the dresser table and he almost picked it up before remembering that his stylist last year had almost coated his head in the stuff for the entire time he was in the Capitol. What was wrong with his curls anyway?

Networking with the sponsors before they had met any of the tributes was difficult work. Many of the mentors had only known their tributes for a day so trying to gather early support for them without very much background information wasn't easy. Blaine had the advantage that he knew Kurt fairly well, though he didn't think babbling on about how angelic his voice was when he sang or how blue he eyes got when he was scared or overwhelmed would be much help.

Hardly anyone spoke to him and Blaine wondered if they weren't interested in knowing about Kurt or if he was off putting in some way. Shannon had spoken to at least four sponsors, waving her arms around animatedly, making them laugh and nod at her encouragingly.

A very tall and bored looking woman with orange spiky hair came over to him after forty-five minutes, asking him in a dull voice what he thought Kurt's best asset was. Even though she was talking to him, her attention was elsewhere, she didn't even look at him.

Blaine felt his insides flood with warmth as he answered sincerely, "His heart."

"Oh?" The woman asked. She turned to face him, her expression curious and Blaine had to rearrange his features quickly when he noticed her eyes were shaped and coloured like a cat's.

Blaine brought himself up to full height, raising his chin in what he hoped was a confident matter. "I have never met anyone whose heart was as big as Kurt's. His mom died when he was seven and he took up her duties around the house, helping his dad with the cooking and cleaning. He looked after him, especially after his dad's heart attack. Kurt worked double shifts at the Factory back home when his dad couldn't work on top of his household duties. He basically saved their home. He saved his life."

The woman was holding her chin, rubbing her thumb along her jaw line as she listened. A few people in earshot had turned their attentions to listen.

"Kurt does so much and asks for nothing in return. His dad remarried last year, thanks to him. That's the silver lining of him being here; at least he'll know that his dad isn't alone at home." Blaine sighed heavily, running his fingers through his hair.

There was silence for a few minutes before someone asked, "Hummel is it? From District Eight?"

"Yes, that's right," Blaine said in awe, his face breaking into a grin. "District Eight. We make the…" he racked his brains for a flattering word, "_fabulous _clothes you wear here."

There was a break out of nodding and agreeable sounds from the crowd that had gathered around him. Blaine noticed Shannon smiling at him from across the room and he grinned back at her when she winked.

* * *

><p>Blaine hadn't seen Kurt all day. He was due to meet him before the ceremony started to give him any last minute tips. He wringed his hands nervously, looking up with a start when the other tributes started arriving.<p>

My God they were all so... _colourful_. Bright costumes, some with hats and others with capes and one boy with a suit lit up with _electricity._ The boy was District Three was wheelchair bound and his outfit made him look like a tree lit up for the Winter Feast.

"Hey," a voice said from behind him. Blaine turned around and sucked in a breath.

Kurt was _beautiful_. And although Blaine thought he was beautiful anyway, this was something else. His skin, which was usually milky white like porcelain, was noticeably tanned and it made him look like he was shining. His eyes were the bluest Blaine had ever seen them and his hair was styled with just enough hair gel to give it volume and height.

He was wearing tight form-fitting grey slacks with a crease down the front. Black leather boots offset the pants and a matching grey waistcoat covered a simple white button up. There was a cream silk scarf tied into a bow around his neck and a gold chain clipped to the waistcoat that disappeared into a small pocket where presumably a pocket watch sat. On the breast of the waistcoat were a couple of large safety pins.

Blaine's eyes raked over his body, he looked gorgeous and it was making his head fuzzy just looking at him. He must have been staring because Kurt awkwardly cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck gingerly.

"Do I look okay?" Kurt asked quietly. He fiddled with the buttons on the waistcoat.

"You look _more_ than okay," Blaine breathed, letting out a whimper mid-sentence. He felt his face flush and he clapped his hand to his mouth as Kurt stared at him, his lips parted and his eyes shining. "I mean, yeah, you look… good," he added lamely.

"You both look gorgeous!" Shannon announced, clapping her hands together, her eyes pooling with tears. "You're going to do great out there."

Blaine noticed Tina for the first time. She looked stunning. She was wearing a long dark red dress, a corset on the top, exposing her shoulders and neckline, with long frilly sleeves. Blaine wondered if there was something underneath her dress as it flared out to an impressive width around her. She had her hair pulled up into a knot and she wore a red feathered black hat.

"We do good work."

Blaine turned to the woman standing next to Shannon and his confusion must have shown because she held out her hand, smiling, and said, "I'm Mercedes, Kurt's stylist. You must be Blaine; Kurt's told me all about you."

"He has?" Blaine asked, surprised, eyes widening with hope.

"Okay you two, time to go," Shannon cut in, ushering Kurt and Tina onto their chariots. "We'll be in the stands, just remember to smile and wave and we'll see you afterwards!"

Kurt looked to Blaine for guidance, who said, "Don't try to be anyone except yourself." Kurt nodded, turning to face forwards, gripping the front of the chariot. "Relax, Kurt." Kurt loosened his grip.

Blaine was near enough pulled up to the stands to sit with Shannon, Sue Sylvester, Mercedes and Bryan (Tina's stylist). His nerves for Kurt were easing, given how he looked and how he sold him at the first sponsor meeting. He just hoped Kurt had the strength Blaine knew was inside of him.

The music started to play and the chariots ascended into the stadium. The crowd was screaming and cheering and it was nearly deafening for Blaine who ducked slightly as the music increased, thumping through the speakers. Blaine frowned at the volume and looked at the first chariot as it came into sight.

The board overhead told him that Sebastian Symthe and Quinn Fabray were from District One. They were wearing long white fur coats, Quinn wearing a matching fur hat, her long blonde hair in golden curls around her face. If they were told to smile, they were doing it wrong. Their faces were set in superior smirks and Blaine instantly disliked them, wrinkling his nose as they waved and blew kisses to the crowd.

Blaine almost snorted as the tributes from District Two rode up next, both of them wearing some edited version of the Peacekeeper uniform. A striking olive skinned girl with long dark hair and full lips was wearing a skirt that could be classed as a belt and her shirt had at least four buttons open at the top that Blaine knew would have the men of the Capitol wolf whistling. Though it was nothing compared to the hairstyle of the boy. Shaved both sides of his head except for a thick line down the middle. It was a hairstyle the Capitol would be proud of.

One by one more chariots passed Blaine's section. The wheelchair boy who was unfortunately half hidden by his chariot, a topless Asian boy wearing jeans and not much else, holding a fishing pole and looking unsure about the whole thing, a forced smile on his face.

The tributes from Five were startling. They were wearing bright contrasting colours and smiling so widely that Blaine wondered if their jaws ached. Their teeth were both gleaming unnaturally white and they held hands, waving frantically at the crowd. Blaine glanced at the screen, making a mental note to tell Kurt to avoid Jesse St James and Rachel Berry if he could.

Blaine was impressed with the tributes from Seven. A blond haired boy and a larger girl with round glasses who reminded Blaine of a bear. They wore plaid and denim and were the only tributes that looked normal at this point.

District Eight were next. Blaine held a breath as Kurt and Tina came into view. They looked stunning together, elegant against the dying sun. Kurt positively shone. He was smiling, if not a little nervously, waving at the crowd politely.

"WE LOVE YOU, DISTRICT EIGHT!" screamed someone from the stands.

Blaine saw Kurt flush slightly embarrassed before blowing the person a kiss, the corner of his eyes creasing as he grinned widely. The crowd was going nuts.

Blaine couldn't help but copy him, his mouth splitting into a wide grin. Kurt's eyes were searching the crowd and when they locked on Blaine and the others, his eyes noticeably softened.

"GO, KURT!" Blaine shouted before he could stop himself. Kurt raised a hand to his mouth, covering a laugh as he tore his eyes away as the chariot rode out of sight.


	4. Chapter 4

When Blaine caught up with Kurt after the show has ended, Kurt's cheeks were flushed pink and he looked almost embarrassed.

"Kurt, you were… wonderful," Blaine said, his breath catching a little on the last word. Kurt's cheeks flushed darker and he ducked his head, only looking up when Shannon slapped him and Tina on their backs.

"Amazing, guys!" Shannon beamed. "The crowd loved you. That's going to help you in the arena!" She gave them one last proud smile before turning to talk to the stylists about their plans for the interview costumes.

Blaine's smile fell immediately. How could he keep forgetting that Kurt was going in the arena? Every time he allowed himself some happiness the Capitol had to rip it away from him. It was bad enough when he was chosen for the Games last year, but now he had to watch as Kurt went through the same thing. No, it was worse; he has to _help_ Kurt prepare to go through the same thing.

Blaine had Shannon as his mentor last year and he won. What chance did Kurt have with him? The boy who won by chance.

The next few days would be taken up by training. Kurt and Tina would train with the other tributes, train with Sue Sylvester and then train with each of their mentors. They would then perform in front of the Gamemakers to get their score to present to the public and the sponsors. A good score meant more sponsors and a bad score basically meant they were likely to be one of the first few out of the Games.

Blaine tried to not think about it too much. It was hard not to when Kurt came back from his first day of training with a cut knee and a rip in his pants leg. Blaine must have looked worried because Kurt shot him an almost guilty look before saying, "I'm okay, really."

Blaine wet his lips and took Kurt's arm, turning it slightly where there was an angry red graze between his elbow and wrist. As Blaine ran his fingers over the mark, Kurt hissed in pain and Blaine's frown deepened.

"What happened?" Blaine asked. He caught the eye of a nearby Avox and asked, "Can I please have a first aid box?" The Avox, a short boy with pale skin and jet black hair, nodded and left the room.

"I fell," Kurt admitted quietly, avoiding Blaine's eyes. They took a seat at the table, Blaine holding Kurt's hand tightly in his own. Blaine barely registered this movement as he was busy trying to catch Kurt's eye, while Kurt actively tried to ignore him.

When the Avox returned, Blaine thanked him and took out a bottle of lotion from the box. He tipped a pea sized amount onto a cotton ball and began dabbing Kurt's graze gently.

Kurt hissed again and through gritted teeth said, "We were practicing climbing, you know in case of trees, and I lost my footing and fell." He glanced up at Blaine, his eyes red and full of sadness and something else Blaine couldn't place. Kurt's shoulders slumped as he relaxed. The lotion was beginning to work.

They were silent for a few minutes before Kurt suddenly said, "How am I supposed to win the Games if I can't even climb a stupid tree? Statistically, if a tribute can't climb, they're more likely to get killed early in the Games, especially at night." Kurt sighed heavily, hot angry tears streaming down his face.

Blaine felt an overwhelming pull at the bottom of his stomach. His skin felt itchy and he could feel his own eyes welling up at the sight of Kurt, broken after one day of training. _Training_. What were the actual Games going to be like?

Blaine swallowed hard and threw himself forwards, wrapping his arms around Kurt's neck and pulling him towards him. Blaine squeezed him slightly, resting his face against Kurt's hair, breathing in the smell of his strawberry shampoo mixed with sweat. Kurt gasped and stiffened for a moment before he carefully wrapped his own arms around Blaine's waist, burying his face in the crook of Blaine's neck. They stayed there in each others arms for minutes, though to Blaine it felt like hours. He could have held Kurt forever if he'd let him. Kurt relaxed in Blaine's embrace and slowly his crying stopped and all Blaine could hear was Kurt's gentle breathing, his hot breath tickling Blaine's neck and making his entire body feel warm.

When they broke apart, Kurt's face was pink and he wiped his eyes on his sleeve before giving Blaine a grateful and watery smile.

"I better get to bed," Kurt said, his eyes locking with Blaine's for a moment.

"Right yes," Blaine said. He felt slightly cold at the loss of contact, his arms feeling heavy in lap. He watched as Kurt shot him a small smile and went to his room. Blaine heaved a sigh and packed away the first aid kit, looking even less forward to their training session together.

Kurt seemed to do better on his second day of training. He didn't come back injured and he even smiled, telling Shannon over dinner how he managed to learn all of the knots and how he aced the poisonous berries station.

When it was time for their one-on-one training, they met in Blaine's room for privacy. They were not going to do any physical training, that's what the past few days were about, instead Blaine was meant to help Kurt with his interview with Caesar Flickerman, something Kurt had been anxious about for days.

"Okay, so let's start with some easy questions," Blaine said, looking down at the notebook in his lap. He had written out questions to ask Kurt, ones he had been asked at his interview last year and ones he expected would come up. Interviews only lasted three minutes, so not many questions could be asked, but it was better to be prepared.

Kurt nodded mutely as Blaine read out the first question. "How are you enjoying the Capitol?" Kurt scrunched up his mouth in thought, his eyes raised to the ceiling as he pondered the question. Blaine smiled encouragingly.

"It's… nice," Kurt said, forcing a smile that made him look winded.

"Uh," Blaine said, knitting his brows together. "That was a… good start, but you need to say a little bit more. Maybe mention the food, the rooms we're staying in, how the city looks to you, the people. Something to please the crowd, make them think that you're grateful to even be here."

"But I'm not," Kurt said bluntly, smiling sadly. "I hate being here, I hate being away from my dad and my home."

Blaine nodded in understanding. He knew the loneliness that came with being a tribute, having no one to talk to. Sure he had Shannon last year and the female tribute from his district, but it wasn't the same. For starters there was no point friending the other tribute when one or both of you were going to die within the month.

"You don't have to tell me," Blaine agreed. "I know how horrible it is being a tribute and being so far away from home and not even being able to speak to your family before you go into the arena. If I had Cooper to talk to every night before I had gone in, it still would have been the worse time of my life, but at least I wouldn't have been so alone."

"I'm not alone," Kurt said, his voice soft as he looked at Blaine seriously. "I have you."

Blaine spluttered, opening and closing his mouth several times, his face matching the colour of the dark red plush chairs they were sitting on.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have said that," Kurt said quickly, panic rising in his voice as he saw Blaine's reaction.

"No, no, it… it's fine," Blaine said.

"It's just that, you've been so nice to me and so kind. I think I would have broken down at this point without you," Kurt said, his voice even. "Well, broken down worse," he added with a knowing smile.

Blaine grinned toothily, looking at his clipboard but not really reading the words he'd written. When he looked up, he couldn't stop himself opening staring at Kurt. It was one thing to admire him from afar, but to be sitting this close, being able to count the freckles on his nose and see the different flecks of colour in his eyes. It was breathtaking. And to have Kurt look at him like that, with a sweet and kind smile, it was almost too much for Blaine to handle.

"This is why the crowd are going to love you; you're so… you're the best person I know," Blaine admitted. "You're _so_ nice and caring and when the crowd meet you, they won't be able to stop liking you."

"How do you know?" Kurt asked, not sounding convinced.

"Because I like you," Blaine said. The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, his face draining of colour and his eyes widening as Kurt stared at him, dumbstruck. "What I mean –"

"- I like you too," Kurt said, almost shyly. He bit down on his bottom lip, looking at Blaine expectedly, waiting for him to say something.

_He _likes_ me? As a friend? As a mentor? As something more? He couldn't mean that he _likes me_, likes me, could he? No, that's ridiculous. Why would someone like Kurt like someone like me? The boy who won the Hunger Games accidently, making District Eight a laughing stock. The boy who had lumps of coal thrown at him when he visited District Twelve on the tour and who was forced to sit alone at lunch at school every day._

Kurt was the most interesting and amazing person Blaine had ever met and there was no way he felt the same way about him. Blaine decided that the best course of action was to ignore the moment entirely.

"So they might ask you about your home life. Your dad, your mom maybe. Do you think you'd be able to speak about her? Caesar somehow found out about my mom's death and asked if I thought she was watching me and what I thought she'd say about me being in the Games."

Hurt flashed across Kurt's face briefly before it was gone and his expression was unreadable. "My mom's death was a long time ago, I can talk about it. We've talked about after all. I just don't know if I'll be able to do it on TV in front of everyone," Kurt said, sighing.

"Well then if he asks, just look for me in the audience and tell me instead," Blaine said, smiling. He perked up, sitting straighter in his chair. "Just talk to me during the entire interview, it'll help your nerves and you won't feel awkward about answering questions, at least, I hope you won't."

Kurt nodded, smiling in acknowledgement, though there was something about the smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. He looked down at his lap where his hands were cupped together. He looked almost sad. Blaine assumed he was still unsure about the interview and it was getting him down. He reached forwards and placed his hand over Kurt's, causing the other boy's head to snap up immediately at the contact.

"Are you okay?" Blaine asked, concern in his voice. He hated seeing Kurt like this, like he was lost in his own head.

"I'm fine," Kurt said, unconvincingly.

"Kurt, you know you can tell me anything. I'm your mentor, I'm here to help you," Blaine said, rubbing his thumb over the top of Kurt's hand. Kurt stared at the motion, his shoulders tensing up slightly as he stood up.

"Are we done?" Kurt asked abruptly, talking to his shoes.

Blaine gapped at him, his stomach feeling knotted at the sudden coldness. _Looks like I was right, he doesn't like me in that way_. "Uh yeah," Blaine said, standing up to move the chairs back against the wall. "Sure, I'll see you tomorrow before the interview, I guess?"

When Kurt didn't answer, Blaine turned around and found that he was alone.

When Kurt and Tina came back from their sessions with the Gamekeepers, both of them looked exhausted, but happy enough with the way it went. Tina showed off her skill of climbing from one end of the training hall to the other without touching the ground, while Kurt showed off his fencing skills.

"I hope it's enough," Kurt said as he sat down on the sofa beside Blaine. They hadn't spoken about the weird moment from yesterday and Blaine didn't want to bring it up because it might turn awkward and Blaine would probably end up telling Kurt he was secretly in love with him, making their remaining time together difficult. Blaine just wanted to be with Kurt and this was better than nothing.

"I'm sure it was," Blaine said, giving him a smile before they turned their attentions to the television.

As expected, the tributes from the Career Districts scored high. Sebastian and Quinn from District One each earned a solid eight, while District Two's Noah scored an impressive nine while Santana got an eight. Tina scored a six, which made her happy enough. When Kurt's picture appeared the screen beside a six, Kurt merely shrugged.

"At least it's above five," Kurt said. He looked a little disappointed, but couldn't feel bad very long. Brittany from District Ten scored a three, while Rory from District Eleven a four.

The following day was the televised interviews with Caesar Flickerman. Kurt and Tina spent the afternoon getting waxed, polished and dressed in their outfits prepared by Bryan and Mercedes. Tina was dressed in a stunning floor length black dress, with silk sleeves and her hair curled, cascading down her back. Bryan said that he wanted her to appear mysterious and dark, to keep the audience guessing about her.

Kurt was dressed in another stunning suit. He wore black pants matched with a black waistcoat and navy button down shirt. To add a flash of colour, he wore a red bow tie.

They were due backstage in ten minutes to line up and wait for their turn with the other tributes. When Blaine went into Kurt's dressing room to find him (Mercedes had said he wanted a few minutes alone), he found him standing in front of a mirror admiring his tie.

"My dad showed me how to tie one of these," Kurt said conversationally, glancing at Blaine in the mirror's reflection. "After my mom died he went out and got me a bow tie to wear with my best shirt when we buried her. I didn't know to tie one so he showed me. He had been so terribly sad and I hadn't seen him smile in days but when he showed me how to put on a bow tie he smiled, just slightly, but it was there. I think it was the first sign that things were going to be okay with us. He was so worried about raising me alone that when he managed to do something, even just as small as helping me get dressed, I think it helped him."

Blaine smiled fondly at him, his chest aching as he watched Kurt straighten the tie and turn to face him. "You look handsome," Blaine mused quietly, his eyes glossing over as he raked them over Kurt's body. Kurt blushed but said nothing, that sad smile appearing on his face again like a secret he wouldn't share.

Kurt took a deep breath, looking past Blaine to the door. "I'm nervous," he admitted, wiping his hands down his sides.

"Don't be, you're going to do great. Just remember what I said, talk to me," Blaine said. Kurt nodded and they looked at each other for a moment, the air feeling thick. Blaine absently rubbed his hand over his jacket, feeling a small bump by his chest. He jolted, suddenly remembering what he had pinned there. His heart leapt into his throat.

"I better get out there," Kurt said. He looked a little dejected, like he had been waiting for something to happen that didn't.

"Wait!" Blaine said. Kurt turned to face him, tilting his head curiously as he watched Blaine unhook something under his jacket's lapel. Blaine held out his hand, offering Kurt the brooch he had kept close to him every day since he'd bought it.

Kurt gasped, his hands clasping over his mouth as he stared wide eyed at Blaine's palm before he tentatively reached out a shaking hand to pick up the brooch. He turned it over, the white coral petals glistening in the artificial light of the room. Kurt ran the pad of his finger of the pearl centre on the brooch and he let out a whimper. Kurt looked up at Blaine's face, his expression screaming _I can't believe you have this_.

"How?" Kurt asked in awe. He blinked, his lips parting as he waited on tender hooks for Blaine's answer.

Blaine shyly ducked his head, rubbing the back of his neck gingerly as he said, "I saw you in the market last year after I got back from the Capitol and you were looking at it."

"I remember," Kurt breathed, his mouth hanging open as the memory of the day washed over him. "I remember… I saw you; I was going to say hello but my brother…"

Blaine raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You were?" he asked hopefully, wetting his lips. Kurt followed the motion, looking up into Blaine's eyes a moment later.

"Yeah," he said in almost a whisper. "How do you have this?"

"I – I saw you looking at it and you looked so sad that you couldn't get it so I bought it – for you," Blaine said. He wondered if this was a good idea, baring his soul this way, but then he remembered that Kurt was going into the arena tomorrow and if he didn't give him the brooch now, he might never be able to.

Kurt looked like he was processing this information so Blaine took the opportunity to take the brooch and pin it to Kurt's waistcoat lapel. He smiled at it, sighing happily. "There. It may have taken me eleven months to give it to you, but it was worth it," he said, not realising that he had said that out loud.

Blaine let his hands linger for a moment, his eyes trailing up to Kurt's when he realised Kurt was watching him. There were only standing a few inches apart and Blaine could feel Kurt's breath on his face, warm and inviting. Kurt's eyes closed as he leaned in and pressed his lips against Blaine's.

Blaine's eyes widened and he gasped against Kurt's lips. His eyes fell closed as he concentrated on the warmth and softness of another person's lips on his. _Kurt's_ lips on his. Kurt hummed a little, pressing firmer against Blaine and tilting his head so their lips slotted together perfectly. When they pulled apart, Blaine's lips remained parted and he stared at Kurt in disbelief.

Kurt giggled, his fingers touching his mouth as his lips curled into a smile.

"Kurt, I –"

"Oh there you are!" Shannon opened the door, one hand on her hip as she steered Kurt out of the room. "You need to be with the others, come on!" Kurt looked behind him at Blaine as he was being led away, his expression pleading. _Wait for me_.

Blaine took his seat in the second row, waiting for the show to begin. He kept touching his lips, which were vibrating pleasantly and puckering up at their own accord, yearning for more.

_He kissed me_, Blaine thought to himself. He wanted to laugh it was so unbelievable. Then again, all of this was so unbelievable. _He kissed me_, he thought again. Nope, no matter how many times he thought about it, it didn't stop being true. He had in fact kissed Kurt Hummel. Or rather been kissed by Kurt Hummel. As first kisses went, he rather liked it and he hoped there would be many more. And it was definitely better than kissing the tender crook of his elbow for practice, that was for sure.

The show began. Blaine noted that Caesar had gone for indigo hair this year, with his usual matching eyelids and lips.

The first tribute was Quinn from District One, who came onto the stage in a pink frilly dress and a broad grin on her pretty face. She spoke about what winning would mean for her family, who were close personal friends of District One's major. Sebastian from District One was very cocky, talking about how he knew he was going to win and what his plans were after the Games had ended. He even winked at the crowd before he exited the stage.

Blaine was a little worried about Santana from District Two's sanity. She referred to herself as 'Snix' and talked about her favourite type of weapons. She explained which knives were best for cutting throats and which ones for gutting fish. Strangely enough, Noah, or 'Puck', seemed all talk. There was a kindness behind his eyes that Blaine noticed when he spoke about his mother back home.

You had to feel sorry for Artie from District Three. Being in a wheelchair was bad enough, but being in the Games must be a constant worry for him. Artie talked about the possibility of hills or uneven surfaces but then turned it around by talking about his speed and his love of electronics.

Mike from District Four was very likeable. He talked about how he lived outside most of the time anyway so the Games wouldn't be much different from home. Being from the fishing district, Blaine made a mental note to advise Kurt to ally with him for food supplies.

The District Five Happy Twins as Blaine called them were just as annoying and dazzling as they appeared during the opening ceremony. Blaine couldn't tell who had a bigger ego, Rachel or Jesse.

Lauren from District Seven was a burly girl who said she once snapped a tree trunk in half with only her foot. Blaine believed her. Sam on the other hand seemed like a kind hearted boy who talked about building houses for the poorer sections of his district. Everyone melted, making 'awww' and 'oooh' noises, especially when he flashed the crowd a stunning smile.

District Eight were next. Tina went first. She spoke about her family, especially her little sister, and how he wanted to win to get back to them. When asked about her score, she wouldn't go into what she could do ("Don't let on you'll be living in the trees, the others will be searching for you on the ground!" Shannon had advised), just that she was like an animal, which could be taken any way and added to her mystery.

It was then Kurt's turn. He walked onto the stage and took a seat, glancing around for Blaine. When he caught his eye, Blaine grinned at him, earning him a dopey grin back.

"So, Kurt from District Eight," Caesar said politely, crossing his legs and smiling at Kurt. "I can see why you're from District Eight, don't you look fabulous! Doesn't he look fabulous?" He looked to the crowd, raising his palms up so people clapped and cheered for him. Kurt looked slightly embarrassed, one arm resting in his lap while the other fiddled with his brooch.

"Thank you, my stylist Mercedes did an excellent job," Kurt said humbly.

"That she did!" Caesar agreed. "Now Kurt, tell me, what do you hope to gain from the Games?" Kurt opened his mouth as though he couldn't decide if the question was serious.

"To… not die?" Kurt said uncertainly. Caesar barked with laughter, slapping Kurt's knee.

"Brilliant!" Caesar said. "But seriously, what do you want? Fame? Money? You'll have both if you win, but what do you _really_ want?"

Kurt's lips were in a thin line as he looked over at Blaine before he answered. "I just want someone to be happy with," Kurt answered honestly. Some of the crowd said 'awww' and there were a few audible sniffs. "After my mom… after she died, my dad was so lonely but he's found someone else now and I haven't seen him so happy in a long time. I just want to go back to District Eight and be happy."

Caesar smiled knowingly, resting his elbow on his knee and his chin in palm as he considered Kurt. "I think there's more to this than you're letting on, Kurt Hummel," he said. Kurt noticed that his eyes kept dropping to the brooch, which he had been absently touching the entire interview. "Do you have a special someone back home?"

Kurt took a breath and said, "Not back home… no."

"Oh come on," Caesar said playfully. "It's just us here." He looked straight at the camera and winked, smiling toothily before turning back to Kurt. "You can't tell me there isn't a special boy or girl in your life. No one is going to judge you."

"Boy," Kurt said quietly.

"And did this boy give you that brooch?" Caesar asked kindly, nodding his head in the direction of it. When Kurt nodded in reply, Caesar pressed on. "It's very beautiful; he must care about you a great deal."

"More than I realised," Kurt admitted to himself more than any one else. He glanced at Blaine and smiled tenderly at him. When Blaine smiled back just as lovingly, he jolted in his chair when he saw in the corner of his eye that Caesar was staring right at him, realisation written all over his face.

"And how do you feel about him?" Caesar asked Kurt, placing his hand on Kurt's knee again.

"I –" Kurt said, unsure how to put his feelings into words. "He's -" Kurt searched for words that weren't there, or rather were there, but were waiting for him back on the eighth floor where he could give them to Blaine privately.

"Your mentor?" Caesar offered, raising his eyebrows knowingly and crossing his arms across his chest as he watched Kurt choke out a breath and turn dark red.

"W-what?" Kurt asked, looking for Blaine in the audience who looked just as terrified. The camera had twisted to face him and Blaine gapped at his own appearance on the large screen above the stage.

"Well, this is different, this is quite different," Caesar said, tapping his chin in thought. "I've heard of tributes forming strange bonds in the arena, but never have I seen a tribute and their mentor fall for one another. Oh I do wish we had more time together, Kurt so we could discuss you and –" he looked at Kurt expectedly.

"B-Blaine," Kurt whispered.

"Blaine, of course! He won last year, how could I forget? But sadly our time is up. Oh, this is quite a sad story, isn't it everyone? You want to protect your loved one, but this is quite literal, isn't it? Oh, I do wish you and Blaine all the best, and let's hope some of our wonderful sponsors are romantics. Let's hear it for Kurt Hummel!"

And the crowd clapped and cheered for Kurt as he awkwardly waved and left the stage. Blaine didn't bother to watch the other interviews; he stood up and made a bee line for backstage to get to Kurt.

"Kurt!" Blaine called out when he spotted him. He jogged over to him, throwing his arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.

"Oh, Blaine," Kurt whispered into his neck. He pulled back slightly, pressing their foreheads together, smiling shyly at him. "Well, that went well."

Blaine laughed softly, rubbing small circles into Kurt's shoulder. He hummed in acknowledgement. The sound of the crowd cheering filled the air as another tribute took to the stage.

Kurt's smile dropped and he sighed heavily. "I'm going in the arena tomorrow," he whispered, as though it was a secret.

"Ssh," Blaine soothed, reaching up to cup his face. He pressed his lips to Kurt's, feeling his stomach swoop pleasantly. "Let's not," Blaine added, before he leant back in for another kiss. Kurt mumbled something against his lips, but it was soon forgotten as Blaine held him close, their bodies flush together and their arms holding on desperately to each other, never wanting to let go.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Warnings**: This chapter contains minor character deaths. Happy Huinger Games everyone!

* * *

><p>"Blaine?"<p>

"Yeah?"

"Are you asleep?"

"No."

Blaine shifted so he could look down at Kurt in the darkness. The curtains were not drawn, which allowed the light from the moon to pour into the room, bathing Kurt in a soft glow.

Kurt's head was resting on Blaine's chest, his arm draped over Blaine's stomach and their legs were tangled together. After the interviews had finished everyone ate in silence back on the eighth floor. Glances filled with pity were aimed at them the entire meal but no one said anything. There was nothing to say.

Not wanting to spend another second away from Kurt, Blaine had wordlessly taken Kurt's hand and led him to his room, pulling the other boy close to him when they got under the covers in the bed. Kurt could hear Blaine's heart beating fast and hard against his chest with the simple act of lying together.

_Fifteen hours_.

After years of being hopelessly in love with Kurt, Blaine was allowed fifteen hours of happiness before it was being ripped from him, leaving him feeling vulnerable and broken. Fifteen hours of being with Kurt before they had to say their goodbyes and Kurt would be taken to the arena. The possibility of him not getting out of there threatened to consume Blaine. But he had to stay strong, for Kurt. He couldn't cry, not until Kurt was in the arena.

The only upside to the Hunger Games were that Blaine wouldn't have to worry about what Kurt was doing. He could watch the entire thing roll out on live television, twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. That was also the downside. Blaine would have to watch Kurt suffer.

Blaine pulled Kurt closer, his arms wrapping around the other boy's frame protectively. He kissed his forehead, his lips lingering there as he felt the warmth of Kurt's skin on his.

"I'm scared, Blaine," Kurt admitted, his hand fisting Blaine's t-shirt. He looked up at Blaine, his eyes bright and shining in the moonlight. He looked like an angel.

"Just remember what I told you," Blaine said. "Find a water source and try to ally with Mike. He can teach you how to fish. Stick to the trees or high ground if possible so you can see anyone coming. And remember," Blaine swallowed thickly, the lump in his throat remaining, "I'll be watching, you won't be alone. If you need anything, I will find a way to get it to you."

They were silent. Kurt smoothed out Blaine's t-shirt while Blaine drew lazy circles on Kurt's forearm with his fingertips, enjoying the humming noises Kurt was making.

"Blaine," Kurt said, after a few minutes, his voice low but clear. "I – I love you."

Blaine's breath caught in his throat, his lips parting in surprise as his brain tried to process what Kurt had just said.

"I just – I wanted to tell you before tomorrow," Kurt added sheepishly. He wet his lips and looked at Blaine with hopeful, yet fearful eyes.

"I love you too, Kurt," Blaine whispered, bowing his head down to capture Kurt's lips in a sweet kiss. He felt Kurt's lips turn up into a smile. When they broke apart, Blaine leaned back in, peppering Kurt's lips in tiny kisses, making him giggle. "I've loved you for so long, you have no idea," he admitted, unable to stop the goofy smile from overtaking his face.

"I do," Kurt said seriously. "I watched you every day in the arena last year. When you found Wes from District Seven on the river bank, his leg bleeding out as he slipped in and out of consciousness, and you bandaged his leg and gave him your last soup from your pack, I… I fell in love with that boy."

"_Kurt_," Blaine breathed, the whimper in his voice wrapping around his name. He could feel his eyes swimming with fresh tears. They had lost so much time and now it was all over. They could have been together in District Eight, reading books and taking walks around the market and across the meadow. Everything would have been perfect.

Blaine rolled onto his side so he was facing Kurt. He pulled Kurt close and pressed their lips together for a longer kiss, his tongue brushing over Kurt's bottom lip as he moaned softly against him. Kurt placed his hand on Blaine's cheek, his thumb stroking the smooth skin gently, his body pressing forwards until they were flush together.

Blaine dipped his tongue into Kurt's mouth, earning a whimper from Kurt, whose fingers were now carding through Blaine's curls, holding him close. Blaine's head felt cloudy, his body entirely too warm and his skin prickled pleasantly.

Being with Kurt, just like this, was everything Blaine wanted.

The dawn was approaching before they fell asleep, wrapped up in each other. Their bodies merging as one with limbs wrapped around limbs, Kurt's face pressed into Blaine's collarbone, his nose squashed up against Blaine's neck as he slept. The restless night mixed with gentle kisses and caresses taking its toll on the boys who finally fell asleep around four in the morning.

They dressed in silence, Blaine in a button down shirt and dress pants and Kurt in a simple tunic. He would be dressed and prepared in the catacombs under the arena itself that morning.

When Mercedes came to collect Kurt she gave him and Blaine a knowing sad smile and told him she would wait outside.

They stood in front of each other and just stared. Blaine's arms felt extremely heavy beside him and he wondered if his feet had actually rooted to the ground. Kurt looked at him, his face stricken and pale, and his eyes glossy and no longer full of the warmth Blaine witnessed last night. He looked lost. He looked like he was about to break and it physical pained Blaine because he felt so helpless, knowing there was nothing he could do.

Kurt swallowed hard, his bottom lip jutting out as he took a step forwards and reached out to brush Blaine's arm. Blaine shuddered at the touch and this caused Kurt to pull away quickly. Blaine felt a rush of air hit him square in the chest and he lunged forwards, pulling Kurt's body as close to his as he could.

Blaine breathed in deeply, smelling himself mixed in with Kurt's natural scent. As silent tears started to stream down his cheeks, Blaine held Kurt tighter to stop his own body shaking. Kurt clung back, his face buried into Blaine's shoulder.

"Don't forget me," Kurt mumbled into Blaine's shirt.

Blaine gasped and pulled back to look at Kurt, gripping his biceps. Kurt's eyes were turning red and his cheeks were wet.

"I will _never_ forget you," Blaine said, his voice harsh and his tone suggesting Kurt was being ludicrous. "I will never forget you because you are going to win and come back to me."

Kurt merely shook his head and then dropped his head in defeat as he bit down on his bottom lip. "Blaine…"

"Kurt," Blaine said firmly. He leaned in, pressing his lips to Kurt to gain his attention. "I believe in you."

He said the words with such film belief that Kurt could only nod before he wrapped his arms around Blaine's neck, pulling him close for a long kiss. Blaine's hands held onto Kurt's hips, one of his hands holding onto the dip of his lower back. The kiss was slow, they lips sliding together purposely, their tongues meeting for one last time before they pulled away, their faces red and their lips moist and rosy.

It was only when Kurt waved one last time to Blaine before the door on the hovercraft closed that Blaine allowed his emotions to overcome him. He dropped to his knees, falling back on his calves as he sobbed, his breath coming in as a long wheeze and his tears falling quicker than he could wipe them away.

* * *

><p>Kurt doesn't have time to think about Blaine as the cylinder begins to rise. He is surrounded in darkness, a circle of light getting closer above him until he is completely out and in the open air. The sun was bright, so he shielded his eyes, blinking rapidly until he could adjust to the light. It's hot, too hot to be running. Kurt made a mental note to find water and then somewhere shady to hide until nightfall.<p>

"Ladies and gentlemen, let the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games begin!"

They had sixty seconds before the gong sounded to release them and then the Games really would begin. Kurt looked around at the others, some looked determined, others looked scared and the rest were eyeing up the array of bags around the Cornucopia.

They were standing on metal circles surrounding a large grass area. The Cornucopia sat in the centre with weapons, bags and random items scattered around them. Kurt noticed a sword sticking out of the ground near the middle, various knives and daggers and a bow spotted around the grass. There was a bag of apples on the far edge next to the tributes from District Twelve, they could grab them and run before some of the other tributes had even left their circles. Kurt looked around at the various bags, all dark green in colour and with no indication of what was inside.

From what Kurt could see, there was a forest to the left of him and a lake to the right. He hoped there was another water source in the forest and that he wouldn't be forced to risk his life getting water from the lake. Kurt told himself that if that were true, the Games would be over a lot quicker, so there had to be water within those trees somewhere.

Kurt didn't dare more from the metal circle. He couldn't remember when the sixty seconds began so he decided to spend his last remaining moments of freedom trying to decide which bag to go for. That is, until something caught his eye.

He looked over at Brittany, the District Ten tribute, who was hopelessly trying to reach the bag of apples that were a mere foot away from her. She was squatting, her arm straining to reach the bag that was a few itches out of her reach.

Then it happened.

Kurt stared in horror, the colour draining from his face, as he watched Brittany's expression change from determined to terror as she fell off the circle, which exploded underneath her.

Sugar, the tribute from District Eleven screamed, wiping pieces of flesh off of her face as she cried. Kurt blinked, mouth falling open as he looked at the spot where Brittany had been seconds before. His stomach turned uncomfortably and he felt his breakfast threaten to come up.

The gong sounded and it took a moment before anyone moved, too afraid to actually step off in case the same happened to them. When they did move, everything went past in a blur.

Kurt jumped off the circle and then sprinted forwards towards a bag that was lying next to a dagger. With a yelp, Kurt was shoved to the ground by a burly boy from District Ten who grabbed the bag and dagger and made a break for the woods. He didn't make it very far before Puck from District Two caught him in the back of his neck with a knife, the large boy falling face first onto the ground. A cannon sounded from above to signify the death.

Kurt was panting on the ground, his eyes wide and unblinking as he watched Puck make a fist and pull it down like he was ringing a bell as he shouted "Yes!" to himself. He didn't notice Kurt on the ground so he ran back into the Cornucopia.

Kurt saw that Sebastian had grabbed the sword and was waving it around as he collected two bags from nearby. His face bright and his eyes flashing dangerously, he struck the girl from Six with the sword and she spat blood onto the grass in front of her, clutching her stomach as she fell to her knees, coughing. Sebastian _laughed_, making Kurt feel a wave of hatred towards this boy as he jogged away, not even bothering to watch as the girl, whose name Kurt never knew, fell forwards dead. Another cannon sounded, the noise vibrating in Kurt's ears as though they were being set off next to him on the ground.

It was too dangerous to sit here and watch the carnage. He had to move. Kurt scrabbled up, almost falling over his own feet as he shakily took the dagger and bag from the now dead boy from Ten and made a run for the forest, not daring to look back. He could hear screams, bodies falling to the ground and the chilling sounds of laughter.

_Boom, boom, boom_. More tributes had fallen.

He ran hard, his heart thumping in his throat, and his legs aching. He couldn't stop, wouldn't stop, until he was far enough away. If he was lucky he could get a few miles on the Career Tributes before they set off to find him.

After running non stop for thirty minutes, he slowed down, his face creasing worryingly as he held the bag tightly to his chest. He turned on the spot, taking in his surroundings. The trees were thick here, so Kurt guessed he was deep in the wood. He noticed a large rock, bigger than him, up ahead and jogged over to it. He ducked behind it, falling onto the ground with a _thud_, trying to catch his breath. If anyone was coming his way they wouldn't spot him unless they were in front of him looking back.

Kurt wet his lips, looking around, wondering if the cameras were on him. He wiped his sweaty forehead with the back of his arm. Was Blaine watching? What did he think about what had happened at the Cornucopia? If Kurt had got to the bag first would he have a knife in the back of his neck?

Kurt absently rubbed his neck, breathing deeply out of his nose as he shook his mind free of such horrible thoughts. The dagger had a clip attached to it so Kurt slid it onto his belt. He opened the bag that had almost cost him his life and tipped the contents onto the ground.

A piece of string

An empty plastic water bottle

A bottle of iodine

Three peaches

A sleeping bag

A box of matches

He blinked back tears as he held the peaches, remembering Blaine on the train to the Capitol. It was their first conversation with each other since they were kids and what did they talk about? Fruit. Maybe when Blaine had asked, "What are you eating?" he should have replied with, "It's a peach. But enough about that, I've been in love with you for a year".

Kurt felt almost foolish, trying to hold back tears over time lost and words not spoken when he was literally running for his life. He had to get Blaine out of his head. He couldn't think about him, it would only distract him and he definitely couldn't be distracted in the arena. There were twenty-four tributes – one of them was sure to catch up with him at some point.

And thinking about Blaine only hurt. It hurt that after their mother's died their paths didn't cross again. Sure they went to the same school, but their grief and their voluntary isolation from everyone kept them apart. Kurt really could have used a friend like Blaine during that first year, but they had only spoken for a short time, how was he to know that this boy would be everything to him later in life?

It hurt even more when Kurt fell in love with him during the Games and had to sit in agony as he watched this sweet wonderful boy fight for his life until it was only him and Karofsky left. When that happened Kurt was sure that Blaine didn't stand a chance, that he was going to die before he could even speak to him again.

And when Blaine won, Kurt _sobbed_. His dad assumed he was happy for the District win, but really Kurt was just so relieved and overwhelmed that Blaine would be coming home. But he still didn't speak to him. He tried to at school but every time he plucked up the courage Blaine was either being teased by the older kids or no where to be found.

By the time Blaine went on the Victory Tour, Kurt had completely lost his bottle. He never dreamed that a boy like Blaine would ever be interested in someone like him and the fact that he was and they discovered it too late was almost suffocating him.

Kurt took a deep breath, refilling the bag, scowling at the empty bottle as he put it away. Putting the bag on his back, Kurt looked around for any sign of where water might be. There were just trees in every direction. He decided his best course of action was to keep walking.

He walked, his ears straining to hear over the crunching of the leaves under his feet for any sign of life, wincing when he stepped on twigs when they snapped loudly. He blushed when he gasped, looking wildly around when he heard a noise, only for a Mockingjay to fly past him. He laughed nervously and kept walking downhill.

He was walking for an hour before he saw it. A rabbit hopping across his path and into a clearing where he could hear the gentle humming sounds of the Mockingjays. Kurt trod carefully, hoping to avoid scaring the rabbit into hiding. As luck would have it, and Kurt was due some luck about now, he found the rabbit sitting on a moss covered rock, drinking from a thin stream.

He fell to his knees, scaring the rabbit away, as he hastily filled his water bottle, adding a drop of iodine to it before putting both containers back in his bag. While the water purified, Kurt went to find refuge for the night. He had no way of keeping himself secure in the trees without the risk of falling out, so he would need to sleep on the ground for now.

The stream ran along the top of a slope, which Kurt followed down, being careful not to fall at the angle of the bank. He had only walked for a few minutes when he came across a group of four trees that had grown close together, resulting in a square of ground in the middle of them, perfect for hiding in. He unpacked his sleeping bag, climbing inside until only his head was visible. The weather was cooling so he was glad that the sleeping bag was so warm, and the fact that it was black meant it kept him hidden in the darkening sky.

He snuggled down, using his bag as a pillow. Kurt looked up at the sky as he heard the anthem begin. The Capitol's seal appeared in the sky as the anthem ended and the sky was clear for a moment before the faces of the dead appeared. Kurt counted them as nine faces appeared in the sky: the girl from Three, the girl from Four, both tributes from Six, both tributes from Nine (Kurt thinks the boy is called Matt Rutherford but he can't be sure as they had never spoken), Brittany from Ten (Kurt shuddered), the boy from Ten and the girl from Twelve.

Of course Sebastian and the other Careers are still alive. Kurt wondered if they were looking for him, or had gone after one of the others first. He couldn't think about that now. He carefully took out his water bottle, drinking half of the contents. After he put it away he closed his eyes and tried to sleep, mumbling, "Goodnight, Blaine," before he drifted off.

* * *

><p>On the eighth floor of the Training Centre, Blaine Anderson caressed his fingers down the television screen and whispered, "Goodnight, Kurt," as he wiped his eyes and smiled tenderly at the image on the screen.<p> 


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry for the late update. Writers block and life got in the way. Enjoy :)**

* * *

><p>Blaine's eyes drooped for a moment before he startled himself awake, blinking rapidly at the screen in front of him. He was sitting cross legged on one of the sofas in the lounge, clutching a fluffy pillow to his chest, his fingers gripping the soft fabric tightly, as though he was afraid it would slip away if he loosened his grip.<p>

The television was on, but seeing as it was three in the morning there was no sound to transmit. Each tribute had a tracking channel so you could keep an eye on individual tributes in the arena wherever they were. Blaine found this both comforting and upsetting.

He had been watching Kurt since the Games started, only taking a break when Shannon had forced him to join her for dinner that evening. Blaine had returned to the television soon after to watch Kurt find somewhere safe to sleep. When he saw Kurt react the way he did when he found the peaches in his backpack, Blaine choked out a sob, his insides twisting painfully as Kurt drifted off to sleep.

Blaine rested his head against the pillow, breathing in the faint scent of Kurt that had lingered from the previous night. Soon enough it wouldn't smell like Kurt anymore, nothing around here would. The Avoxes had taken away all of Kurt's clothes, stripping his room bare. Thankfully, Blaine had managed to save one thing, Kurt's jumper from the first day, the one he had been wearing when they arrived in the Capitol. It still smelled like him but Blaine knew that if he wore it, Kurt's scent would be replaced with his own, so he kept it in his bottom drawer in his room.

Had it really only been 24 hours since they had been cuddled together in Blaine's bed? 24 hours since he had been holding Kurt close, his fingers drawing patterns on his arms and chest, causing Kurt to giggle and complain about being ticklish.

He didn't kiss him enough. He should have kissed him more, memorised his lips better and the way he tasted of warm milk, cinnamon and _love_. It wasn't fair and it hurt so badly.

Blaine let out a quiet sob, hugging the pillow as his blurry eyes focused on Kurt's sleeping form.

"Hun?"

Blaine didn't bother looking up.

"Blaine hun, you need to get some sleep," Shannon said, placing a tender hand on his shoulder. "Kurt wouldn't want to see you like this."

"I'll never know what Kurt would have wanted," Blaine said, his voice quiet and bitter. "I've lost him."

Shannon tensed beside him, taking a seat on the sofa. "Blaine, you have to pull yourself together. We have meetings with Sponsors tomorrow and you need to be in top form if you're going to get anything for Kurt that he might need," she said. She didn't sound angry, but concerned. "I know that from this point on we're on opposite sides and I'm coaching Tina, but…" she trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence. It wasn't easy, admitting that you hoped your tribute wouldn't make it so someone else's could.

Shannon frowned; her expression conflicted as though she wanted to say more but thought better of it. "Please get some sleep," she said instead before leaving Blaine alone once more.

* * *

><p>Kurt woke up cold with a sore neck. He blinked, opening his eyes to stare up at the pink sky as dawn set over the arena. He groaned, shifting so he was in a sitting position, his face screwing up as he heard several of his joints click. He stretched his arms above him, welcoming the clicking as he felt his stiff body smooth out.<p>

He ran his fingers through his hair and looked quietly around for any sign of life. When he was sure he was alone, he packed away his things and set off on a slow walk. Kurt didn't know where he was going; just that he needed to keep moving in case anyone was closing in.

He had been walking for a few hours when his stomach started to growl. The sun was high in the sky and beating down on Kurt's back, making his walk tiring, especially now that he was hungry. He stopped for a break, draining the remainder of his water bottle as the dizziness he was starting to feel subsided.

He needed to find food and soon.

Kurt made his way downhill in the hope of finding another water source and sure enough luck was on his side as he came across a stream. He re-filled his water bottle, adding another drop of iodine to purify it. While he waited for the water to become drinkable, he removed his shoes and socks and dipped his tired feet into the stream, letting out a deep sigh as the water lapped up around his ankles.

He washed his face and hands and stood in the shallow water, observing. It was when he spotted a fish swim past his toes that he knew what he was having for breakfast. Kurt frowned when he realised all he had in his pack was string and no hook. He'd have to do it the old fashion way.

He looked around the banks of the stream and spotted a large rock. He picked it up carefully, tossing it in the air a few times to get a good feel of it. His eyes were focused and narrowed, watching as a particularly large fish swam by. _One, two, three._

_SPLASH_

Kurt yelped and tripped over his feet, falling bottom first into the stream. The rock had missed the fish and instead caused a backsplash of water, which hit Kurt square in the face, making him lose his balance. He spluttered, wiping his face on his sleeve as he coughed up the water that he had ingested.

_Great. I bet everyone is laughing at me._

He then heard it; actual laughter. Kurt stood up, brushing down his behind where the sandy bed had covered his pants. Kurt's face was flushed dark as he looked around wildly for the source of the laughter. Were the Gamemakers transmitting the audience's reaction?

He then saw him.

A boy, who looked roughly the same age as him, though was slightly taller with broader shoulders and chest, jumped down from the tree next to him, a wide smile plastered across his face as his laughter died away. He looked sympathetically at Kurt, smiling gently as he slowly walked over to him.

"Mike," the boy said, holding out his hand.

"Kurt."

They shook hands, Kurt watching Mike carefully for any signs of a trap. Mike had kind eyes and there was something trusting about him, despite the fact that he should be trying to kill Kurt right now. But he wasn't, and presumably he had been in that tree a while and could have killed Kurt without hesitation or detection. Kurt remembered him from the training and he seemed nice enough then, and even Blaine had urged him to ally him, but for all Kurt knew that could have been a front.

"Do you need some help?" Mike asked. He walked past Kurt and jumped into the river. It was then that Kurt noticed that he wasn't wearing any shoes and the bottom of his pants was turned up to avoid getting wet.

"Oh well, I was doing okay," Kurt said offhandedly, pink staining his cheeks. It was one thing to know that people were laughing at you at home, but to come face to face with someone was another thing.

Mike threw him a smile that said he was unconvinced. There was no pity in his expression, just empathy. He nodded, saying nothing. He reached into his back pocket, pulling out a makeshift fishing rod made from a thick branch, a hook and a piece of string. Kurt eyed it with interest.

Mike kneeled on the mossy bank, his fingers digging away at the damp soil for a few minutes until he pulled out a long, wriggling worm. He attached it to the hook and dropped the end into the stream. "I'm from District Four," he said as a way of explanation. District Four; the fishing district. "You can come closer, y'know. I'm not about to jump you." His smile was genuine and it reached right up to his eyes, giving off a trusting vibe that Kurt couldn't ignore.

Kurt laughed, hoping he didn't sound too uncomfortable as he stepped forwards. They stood together in silence for what felt like hours before Mike spoke.

"I saw you during training – you're pretty good with a sword," Mike complimented. He sounded sincere enough that Kurt let his guard down a little bit more.

"I had fencing lessons back home, so I'm all right," Kurt said, feeling his cheeks flush. He wasn't used to compliments, at least not ones from total strangers.

"You're modest, I like that," Mike said. He suddenly looked eager, pulling hard on the branch with a swift pull, a large fish dangling on the end of the hook. "This will do nicely," he said happily, unhooking the fish that was wriggling in his hands franticly. He stepped out of the stream and cut the fish deep using the end of the hook, the fish's movements slowing down before stopping completely.

"Do you know how to light a fire? I couldn't seem to get the bark to ignite during training," Mike said, shrugging.

"I have matches," Kurt said, pulling his bag off without a second thought and taking out the small pack. Kurt got to work making a fire while Mike, who was delighted with this turn of events, gut the fish for their meal. It wasn't much, but with the hot food spreading warmth through his body, Kurt couldn't care less. Who knew when his next meal would be?

"Have you run into anyone else yet?" Kurt asked, chewing on the end of a bone, desperate to pick it clean.

Mike frowned, looking serious. "That Sebastian kid," he said darkly. "He's a nasty piece of work. He's already killed three people." Kurt winced and Mike nodded as though Kurt had offered his opinion.

As the fire burned low; their fish eaten and water drunk and refilled, the boys sat in comfortable silence, having shared a few stories about their districts.

"So you and Blaine," Mike said, his lips curving into a knowing smile. "That's… something." He scrunched his face up at his choice of word.

Kurt laughed, biting down on his bottom lip. "It's something all right," was all Kurt could really say. In honesty, he didn't know what do say. To Mike, to Blaine, to himself. He never thought anything would come of his feelings for Blaine, how could they? They hadn't spoken two words to each other since they were children and then suddenly they were thrown together in the Capitol. Of course Kurt had debated telling Blaine how he felt about him; he had nothing to lose except a few days of heartache until he came into the arena. But what if Blaine rejected him and then refused to be his mentor? He would be even more alone in this place than he already was.

But then Blaine, sweet Blaine, gave him that brooch and said _I love you_ and everything Kurt thought he knew about life changed. He was so sure that he wasn't going to win the Games that he didn't bother picturing a future after it. But now? Now he had strength and hope surging inside of him, pushing him to win, pushing him back into Blaine's warm and soothing arms.

"How long have you two been together?" Mike asked. He looked genuinely interested, but like everyone, there was a hint of pity behind his brown eyes.

Kurt ducked his head, wetting his lips as he mumbled his answer. When he looked up Mike was watching him with a frown, obviously not having heard him. "Two days," he whispered a little louder, his heart breaking with each word. He swallowed the lump forming in his throat and blinked back the tears that were threatening to fall.

Mike's mouth fell open into a perfect 'o' and his eyes widened with the same heartbreak that Kurt felt when he said his last goodbye to Blaine the previous day. "It was after the interviews that we… that we got together," Kurt clarified. Kurt thought about telling Mike about the brooch and the kiss they shared in his changing room but the Capitol had taken so much from him already, stripped him of his privacy and life and left him to die. He wasn't about to let them take his memories of Blaine too.

"I'm so sorry," Mike said, and he meant it. And that was enough for Kurt.

* * *

><p>As the evening drew to an end, Kurt put out their fire and he and Mike found somewhere to sleep for the night. They had agreed to stick together for a couple of days while they adjusted to the arena. Mike said he was happy to catch food for them both if Kurt made the fires and cooked it. Mike wasn't much of a chef and Kurt had spent years making meals for him and his dad. It wasn't ideal, knowing that the other would be dead soon and possibly by their own hands, but the prospect of working together was a lot more pleasant than being alone.<p>

The sun was just setting, the sky a deep purple, when they heard something coming their way. Mike stood up pencil straight, holding his hand up to silence Kurt as he listened out for the direction of the noise. Mike turned to Kurt and pointed to the closest tree, which they both climbed to wait out whoever was coming.

A tall figure walked through the trees, a sword held securely in one hand and a small plastic pot in the other. Mike and Kurt exchanged grim looks with each other when the moonlight hit the figure's face and they saw who it was.

Sebastian stopped and looked around with an almost tense expression, his head was tilted, his ears straining to hear any sounds as his eyes scanned the area. Mike and Kurt held their breaths watching. Sebastian let out a deep breath, pushing the sword into his belt holder and opening the plastic pot, a gift from a sponsor. He took out a small loaf of bread, no bigger than a grapefruit. The smell of the freshly baked bread hit Kurt's nostrils and he had to cover his mouth with his hand to stop the whimper of need that threatened to escape him.

Sebastian greedily ate the entire thing, smacking his lips together and chewing in an obscene way. He then removed a piece of paper from the pot and smirked as he read it, screwing it up and tossing it on the ground.

He walked over to a row of bushes on the other side of the clearing, appearing to be looking for something. He used the end of his sword to part the vegetation as he peered in, as though whatever he was looking for was dangerous and he needed to keep some distance. He looked disappointed for a second before Kurt heard him make a _hmm_ noise, stripping one of the branches of something Kurt couldn't make out.

"This will have to do for now," Sebastian muttered to himself. He filled his now empty plastic pot and wrapped the parachute carefully around itself before putting it in his backpack. And with one last look around, Sebastian walked out of sight.

They waited for ten minutes before climbing down from the tree, just in case Sebastian was waiting nearby ready to attack. Mike went over to the bushes while Kurt picked up the crumbled note from the ground.

It was against the rules (_ha, rules,_ Kurt thought bitterly to himself) to send tributes insider information. Any notes were checked first to make sure they didn't say anything that could give the tributes knowledge the viewers had. So no 'District Six tribute likes to hide out by the lake' messages were allowed.

Kurt smoothed out the paper, pulling a nauseated face as he read it.

_You have this in the bag!_

Well, it was nice to know that Sebastian's mentor thought so highly of him.

"Hey, Kurt," Mike called out slowly. Kurt turned to see him holding something between his fingers, examining it closely. Kurt walked over to him and once he was close enough, saw that what Mike was holding was a dark berry.

"Berries?" Kurt asked, not understanding why Mike was looking so concerned. "He likes fruit… so?"

"Not just any berries," Mike said, flicking it off of his thumb and wiping his stained fingers down his pants leg. "Nightlock."

"You'd think he would know what poisonous berries look like," Kurt said. "But at least when he eats them he won't be a threat anymore." Kurt smiled uneasily, hating the way his mind was thinking. Even if Sebastian was ruthless and showed no mercy, he was still a boy. A boy with presumably a family back in District One. No one deserved to die in this arena, even him, and especially not by poison.

Mike frowned, looking anxiously at Kurt. "Kurt, I don't think he's planning on eating them," Mike said. He had turned a pale green colour and looked like he was about to be sick.

"What?" Kurt asked, confused. "He put them in his parachute pot, why would he…?" Kurt stopped talking, his eyes widening as bile crawled up his throat. "_Oh_. He… you don't think?"

"I don't think that he's planning on dropping a parachute of Nightlock on other tributes disguised as a sponsor gift? That's exactly what I think," Mike said.


End file.
